Of Silver and Green
by LadyCulebra
Summary: She's watching him. She wishes he would notice, but he has problems of his own.
1. Ch 01 Watching from the Shadows

Ch 01 Watching from the Shadows  
  
  
  
She was staring at him for the third time that day. Something about his pale grey eyes just drew her gaze. Stone grey eyes, just barely bordering on blue. His eyes were so cold and unfeeling, and gave the distinct impression that their owner was not human. She would have been inclined to agree, had it not been that upon closer inspection it had been discovered that there existed a faint glimmer, which seemed to imply a deeper warmth, one that dare not show its presence in its owner. His eyes also sheltered a great deal of pain. She believed that this overabundance of pain was what made his eyes so nondescript. But there was something else present in those stormy grey eyes, something she simply could not place. They were hiding something, some inner turmoil, and it seemed to be tearing him apart, from the inside out. She could almost feel his pain, coursing through her head. It was sharp and throbbing, whenever she gazed into his eyes. She could not even conceive of what this kind of pain must feel like for him. Bland and unfeeling, every time his eyes met hers, although they seemed to lock, she knew he was unseeing. No spark of recognition shone in his eyes, and the knowledge of this saddened her.  
  
No matter his facial expression, she could always read the truth behind his emotions from his eyes. They spoke to her in a way that could not be described in words. He had everyone else fooled. They looked no deeper than the characteristic smirk that always graced his full, pouting lips. The way his elegant eyebrows hoisted or furrowed to portray whatever fleeting emotion he was experiencing at the moment. But within the shadowy orbs, she could always sense his true feelings. Sadness and anguish above all ruled these innate emotions.  
  
She knew that it was pride alone that prevented him from expressing these emotions. Pride was the driving force in everything he did. Showing any emotions other than anger or hatred was a sign of weakness. His enormous sense of pride prevented him from displaying even a moment's weakness. He was hardened on the outside to protect all of the vulnerability he felt on the inside, aching to be released. Only his eyes told the tale.  
  
She had to admit that despite the horrible sarcastic attitude almost certainly put on as a defense mechanism, he was really an extremely handsome creature. Divine really. Everything about his child-like face, from the gentle slope of his nose to the delicate curve of his jaw, screamed fragility. On the rare occasions during which his face was completely expressionless, there was an apparent innocence about him that made even the worst of his enemies feel the slightest twinge of compassion towards him before being replaced with the hatred that had been harboured previously.  
  
The line of his neck was graceful and smooth and met with round shoulders at his torso. He had a swimmer's body, slight, but well defined, with little or no body fat. His chest was slightly muscled, his stomach flat, and with well-defined obliques. She imagined that he was what the Ancient Greeks and Romans were attempting to portray when they were sculpting the perfect human form. With a body like his, it deserved to be immortalized in marble. With his broad shoulders and narrow waist and hips, he cut a nice figure. He was the epitome of a Greek god.  
  
However, his crowning glory was quite literally his hair. Spun gold so fair it was almost nearly white. It was long, perhaps chin-length, though no one could actually tell due to the fact that it seemed permanently slicked back and down the nape of his neck. It was partly due to this glorious head of hair that he had earned the title of "Slytherin's Golden Boy". Mostly, though, it was for his embodiment of the ideals of Salazar Slytherin himself, the founder of Slytherin House at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
Ambition, cunning, a certain disregard for the rules, he seemed absolutely perfect to play the part. Except that was exactly what he was doing: acting out a role for the benefit of the people around him.  
  
He didn't want or need any of the people currently surrounding him, leeching from him his popularity and status, she just wished he would realize. She wished she could tell him, not that he would listen to her even if she did, how strong he could be on his own, without all of his "friends" to control him. Unfortunately, he wasn't the type who would actually listen to her. She was going to have to seek out more drastic measures. Even if the face and mouth failed to recognize her, she knew his unseeing eyes were pleading to her for help, because his pride would never let him ask. But before she could even begin to form a plan of attack, she needed much more information about his condition. This would require some work. He was the suspicious and secretive type, not easily watched without his knowledge. She was up to the challenge. Whether he knew it or not, she would do anything for him, and she wasn't even sure why.  
  
He was sitting in the Great Hall, reigning like a prince over the Slytherin table. While all of his friends were talking idly, he was sitting, not paying attention to any of them, and looking rather bored. His two best friends appeared to be talking to him, and every so often he would nod his head or say something disinterestedly, but to her, it was quite obvious he was ignoring them. All of a sudden, he got up from his seat and left, his friends calling after him. No one made a move to follow, and after a minute they continued their conversations as if nothing had happened.  
  
'Idiots,' she thought, getting up to follow. His "friends" were the most oblivious of all. They were not deserving of him. They were most certainly using him, simply for his position. She snarled at the thought. Two-faced snakes, all of them.  
  
As she left the Great Hall, she saw him turn the corner, headed towards the dungeons. Headed for the Slytherin Commons no doubt. She followed him down flight after flight of stairs until they reached the dungeons. He walked quickly and she struggled to keep up. It wasn't that she didn't know where to go, because she did, she just wanted, needed, to keep her eyes on him. Finally, he stopped. She was relieved. His pause gave her a chance to catch her breath; she'd run the whole way. He stood before the entrance and muttered, "Hail Salazar." The entrance opened, he went in quickly, and the door shut behind him.  
  
She stepped up to the entrance, and repeated the passphrase. The door slid open, she stepped through, and felt a burst of wind behind her as the door closed. The common room was dark, and she had to let her eyes adjust before she could look around. To her dismay, the common room was empty. He must have gone straight to his room. She decided she would get a book form her room and sit in front of the fireplace to do her homework. First of all, she would have to pass right by his room, and second, she could watch for him to emerge from his room. She walked quickly up the stairs to the hallway that housed the fifth-year dorms. The door to his room was the first on the right. She turned and tiptoed towards the half-open door. She flattened herself to the wall beside the door and carefully peered into the room. What she saw shocked her.  
  
There he was, lying facedown on his four-poster bed, his body wracked with sobs. It was horrible. Her heart ached for his. Suddenly, as if he felt her eyes upon him, he sat up, body heaving slightly, albeit soundlessly. He wiped his eyes on his large sleeve and turned to the door, just missing her as she tiptoed back down to the common room. She heard the door open upstairs as she sank into a large cushy armchair. As she settled herself and acted asleep, she heard the distinct creaking that indicated someone descending the stairs. She knew he wasn't stupid, and that he would probably be able to tell she had seen him, but when he had come halfway down and saw her lounging serenely in the chair, he must not have put the pieces together. This was surprising; typically he was overly suspicious. Perhaps it was just the innocence her face portrayed, but whatever the reason, he turned and trudged back up the stairs. This time, she heard the lock slide into place as he closed his bedroom door. Idly she wondered why he hadn't done that in the first place.  
  
She got up and stretched. Then she made her way back up the stairs to her room, at the end of the hall on the right. As she passed his room, she put her ear to the cold wood of his door, but she could hear no sounds from within. She then continued to the room she shared with the four other Slytherin fifth-years. There she quickly snatched the Potions textbook from her bookshelf, grabbed a quill, a parchment, and a bottle of ink from her desk, and rushed back downstairs to the common room. She spread her things in front of her on the luxurious green carpet in front of the huge fireplace. She sprawled out and, keeping on ear listening for the door upstairs, began to do the homework for her favorite class. Unfortunately, even after the rest of the Slytherins returned from dinner, she didn't hear his door open or the sound of his voice for the rest of the night.  
  
As she went upstairs to bed later that night, she paused outside his room. Pressing her ear to the door, she listened for evidence of what he was doing inside. She thought she heard whispering, and a decidedly rodent-like squeak, and then nothing. 'It's late, I must be hearing things,' she thought as she yawned and stumbled to her own room.  
  
As she lay in bed an hour later, she decided tomorrow was the day her plans were set into motion. Drastic times called for drastic measures. If only she really knew. 


	2. Ch 02 The Butterfly with a Bee Stinger

Ch. 02 The Butterfly with a Bee Stinger  
  
"Potter's not so great," she whispered to Draco Malfoy as she passed by him on their way to Potions with Professor Snape.  
  
Maybe it was the thick Irish brogue, but Malfoy couldn't believe what he'd heard. "What?" he called after her, but she's already entered the classroom.  
  
Draco walked in, flanked by his cronies Crabbe and Goyle, and scanned the room. He saw Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger all sitting in the front. His usual seat in the middle was empty of course; no one would dare sit there. But where was that mysterious girl? A flash of red hair caught his eye. There she was, sitting at a table by herself in the back. Malfoy walked purposefully towards his seat. Upon reaching it, he said, glancing back at Crabbe and Goyle, "You two sit here, I have something to take care of." Without another word, or even a backwards glance, Malfoy took the seat beside the girl.  
  
"Yes, you did hear me correctly, and I completely meant it," she said, not looking at him. "Potter's not so special."  
  
"Are you not aware that to say that is comparable to blasphemy?" he replied, after recovering from the shock of meeting a female who wasn't in love with his arch-nemesis Harry Potter: Mr. Boy Who Lived, If You Please.  
  
"Well then, I wouldn't be the only one blaspheming, now would I?" she shot back, her mouth curving into a wry smile.  
  
"No, I guess not," a smirk gracing his own lips. "You know about me, but I know nothing of you."  
  
"Well then, I guess you're not familiar with many of the people in your year, or even in your house. We share almost all our classes, you know," she replied, her smile fading.  
  
Draco, for the first time in his life, found himself tongue-tied. "Well, um, actually, I didn't know. I guess I don't pay attention to that many people," he muttered.  
  
Her face softened. "I guess you wouldn't, being completely obsessed with Potter must require a lot of energy."  
  
"What?!" Draco shouted, before he realized where he was. Luckily, Snape hadn't entered the room yet, and the only thing his outburst had warranted was a few turned heads. "What?" he repeated much more quietly. "How dare you? I am not obsessed with Potter! He simply thinks he is better than everyone else, and needs to be shown he is wrong!" As he said this, he glared at the girl, and noticed to his complete chagrin that she was laughing at him. Malfoy was at a complete loss for words. No one had ever done this to him before, and he had no idea what to do. "What are you laughing at?" he managed to ask weakly.  
  
"The way your eyes turn silver and flash when you're angry!" she answered to his utter shock.  
  
"What's your name?" he asked, changing the subject once he was able to form words.  
  
"Brynne Dharielle."  
  
"Interesting name, what does it mean?"  
  
"I'm not sure what its derivation is, but it means butterfly with a bee stinger," she replied.  
  
"Intriguing," he said, while he was really thinking, 'Now that's a fitting name. I wonder if she gave herself this name.' Although as he considered that, he realized his name fit him extraordinarily well, although he had had it since birth. Draco was Latin for "dragon", and he definitely fancied himself a dragon. He turned back to her. "You're accent is Irish if I'm not mistaken?" he asked as Snape entered the room with a flourish.  
  
"No, you're not mistaken," she answered, eyes on the Potions master. "Now quiet," she hissed. "I can't afford to not pay attention. That Granger is far enough ahead of me as it is. I need to excel at the one thing she does not. I cannot let her be top of the year again, blasted Muggle-born," she muttered.  
  
At this, Draco Malfoy's eyes simply lit up. Finally, someone who shared his opinions voluntarily, without wanting something in return. He found himself sizing her up, deciding whether she was fit to be seen in his company. She had red hair, the color of shimmering fire. However, there were unusual black streaks running through it. He hair was pulled back into a tight braid that reached nearly to her waist. She had a smattering of freckles on her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose, but Draco's eyes were focused elsewhere. He was ensnared in her glittering emerald eyes. He squinted. They seemed to be hiding something her normally innocent-looking face didn't portray. She moved suddenly, and something else green and glittering caught his eye. Brynne was wearing a pendant shaped like the eye of a snake around her neck. The pendant itself was the size of a Knut and glittered verdantly with all the tiny emeralds that made up the iris of the eye. Draco sucked in a breath. Now this was interesting. A snake-eye pendant could only mean one thing. Brynne must belong to a long line of witches and wizards who were all Parselmouths. The ability to talk to snakes was a special gift, and not one to be taken lightly. The talent was uncommon, and when passed down through a lineage, even rarer. This girl was more than worthy of his company.  
  
"Stare much?" she asked, breaking him from his thoughts.  
  
"No. I was looking at your necklace. Can you?" he replied quickly.  
  
"Of course I can, everyone in my family can," she said, hastily tucking the necklace into her shirt. "We're all Slytherins of course. It wouldn't do to be able to talk to snakes and be in any other house. In that respect, Potter is an abomination. Although his Quidditch skills are admirable. He really should have been in Slytherin. He should have been our seeker, and you, well, you would have been a perfect beater. I think you should have been a beater anyways, actually."  
  
Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "What are you insinuating? That Potter is out of my league?"  
  
"Nope," she replied nonchalantly. "Just that you would have more fun aiming Bludgers at him. And if you're going to sit with me, you are going to have to help with this potion," she stated, her voice taking on an authoritative quality.  
  
He had nearly forgotten he was in class, so engrossed was he in conversation. Astounding how this girl could multitask. "Um, sure, what first?"  
  
Crabbe and Goyle, ever infatuated with what their leader was doing, had seen the whole exchange. Now they weren't sure what to do, or even what they were going to say to Draco after class.  
  
Someone else had also watched the encounter, and he wasn't pleased one bit.  
  
  
  
"I want you all to read Chapter Five for tomorrow, and don't forget your essays are due Friday. That means you, Mr. Weasley," said Professor Snape as he stalked from the room.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle carefully approached Draco, who was still sitting, talking to that strange girl. They weren't sure what to do, so they had decided they should wait for Draco. He hadn't even noticed they were standing there. To their surprise, the girl spoke up.  
  
"What do you two want? Can't you see he's busy right now?" she asked them, with a slight smirk on her lips. Draco looked up, noticing his friends standing there for the first time.  
  
"Hey, you can't talk to us like that!" growled Goyle angrily.  
  
"Yeah, you wouldn't dare!" said Crabbe smiling triumphantly. The smile quickly faded when he realized Draco wasn't saying anything. "Right Draco?" he asked.  
  
"Actually," Draco answered, eyes flashing dangerously, "you two should not be speaking to her so condescendingly. Do you not realize to whom you speak?"  
  
They shook their heads.  
  
"Well," Brynne cut in, interrupting Draco, "my name is Brynne Dharielle, and if you two dolts who presume to be pure-bloods are too stupid to realize what that means, then you should know that I happen to be the only heiress to a fortune that outweighs that of both your families put together."  
  
At this, their jaws dropped, as well as Draco's. Draco was faster to compose himself, however. He hadn't known the extent of her family's notoriety. He was wondering why he hadn't recognized her surname. Undoubtedly his father would be able to tell him later. "I suggest you apologize for your rudeness," Draco said to his minions, with his characteristic smirk on his face.  
  
"Sorry," Crabbe said weakly. Goyle could only nod in assent.  
  
"Now," Brynne said sharply, "you two can go."  
  
They looked questioningly at Malfoy. His eyes narrowing, he said, "Don't question her, just do it. If I had any objection, I would have raised it."  
  
Crabbe and Goyle retreated slowly, each wondering to himself what was wrong with Draco.  
  
Draco turned and grinned at Brynne. "That was hilarious. I haven't seen anyone who has ever had the nerve to speak to them like that besides me."  
  
"Obviously, neither had they," she replied. "They're such sheep. I don't understand how you can deal with them. You don't need bodyguards. You're powerful enough that only stupid people would dare question you," she said with appreciation in her voice.  
  
Caught off-guard by the blatantly obvious compliment, Draco could do nothing but look at his feet. What was it about this girl that made him lower his defenses? No one had ever done this to him before, and he wasn't sure how to deal with it. "Well," he said, drawing himself up again, "I can see your point. I really don't need them, but they're the closest to friends I've got."  
  
"If you don't mind me voicing my opinion, because I'm going to anyways," she answered with a smile, "I personally think you should find some friends that are closer to your own level."  
  
"Like you?" he asked, left eyebrow hoisted.  
  
"Well, I'm quite flattered you think so," she replied with a coy smile.  
  
"Uh, well, I think you are definitely at the same level as me," Draco said, complimenting her for the first time that afternoon and cursing himself inwardly as the words escaped his mouth.  
  
Brynne could only laugh. 


	3. Ch 03 Enter the Snake

Ch. 03 Enter the Snake  
  
Aydrian Flint stood just outside the Potions classroom watching, as he had been the whole class period, growing angrier and angrier. The seventh-year Slytherin was tall, with jet-black hair and eyes so brown they were almost black. And at this point, his eyes were black, and were firing lightning bolts at this fifth-year rich kid who was chatting up his girlfriend. He heard Brynne laughing and emitted a low growl. He had had enough. He stalked into the room, and to his complete chagrin was not noticed by either of them. He growled again, louder this time, and both Brynne and Draco spun around, Brynne looking terrified while Malfoy carried his usual indignant expression.  
  
"Yes? Did you need something?" Draco asked nonchalantly.  
  
Aydrian, ignoring Malfoy completely, directed himself at Brynne. "You were supposed to meet me outside the classroom tem minutes ago to go eat."  
  
"I'm sorry, Aydrian. Draco and I were just talking," Brynne nearly whispered, eyes on the floor. It pained Draco to see this out-going girl so submissive, automatically taking a disliking to this Aydrian.  
  
"Oh, I see," said Aydrian darkly, turning to Draco. "And you would be Draco Malfoy, I presume? Ah, yes. My brother's told me all about you. You may remember him as your Quidditch Captain, Marcus? Yes, he's told me all about how you bought your place on the Quidditch team second year. Oh, wait, I mean your daddy did!" he exclaimed with a triumphant sneer. Beside him, Brynne cringed but remained silent.  
  
Draco's face turned beet red with fury. Contrary to popular belief, he hadn't bought his way on the Quidditch team. Once he made it on the team, he had asked his father to contribute the racing brooms to help the Slytherin team improve. Marcus of all people had known this. Draco couldn't conceive of why he would have told his brother this half-cocked rumour. Draco let out a vicious snarl, but before he could respond, he saw Brynne widen her eyes and shake her head vigorously. He took a deep breath, released it, and said in a voice so calm it was deadly, "You do not understand the things of which you speak so freely. I suggest you hold your tongue lest you should wake one morning and find it on the pillow beside you."  
  
Aydrian's eyebrows plunged, and he looked about to explode, but all of a sudden he laughed, saying, "C'mon Brynne, let's go eat," making it obvious it was not a request. Then he turned and walked from the room.  
  
Brynne turned to follow, but at the door looked back longingly at Draco. "Bye," she mouthed.  
  
"Now!" Aydrian shouted, and she scurried out.  
  
Draco was simply fuming. No one treated him like that and got away with it! And yet he couldn't help remembering what had held him back. This puzzled him. Why had he listened to her? He could have taken Aydrian out, couldn't he have? Maybe she was protecting Aydrian. Then an unpleasant thought occurred to him. What if she had been protecting him? Could she know something he didn't? Probably. She appeared to be Aydrian's girlfriend. He frowned at this. She was definitely out of his league. But wait, why was he thinking about this? People didn't matter! They were just a means to an end.and yet he felt a need to protect this girl. The thought terrified him. He couldn't even protect himself.  
  
Aydrian stalked down the empty hallway, Brynne following a few feet behind. She didn't understand why she subjected herself to this. Most of the time, Aydrian was a great person to be around, but when he got into a bad mood, which happened quite frequently, everyone was in for it.  
  
Suddenly Aydrian whirled around to face her. "What was that?" he demanded. "Who do you think you are dealing with?"  
  
"It was nothing," she said casually. "We were just talking."  
  
"I don't buy that for a minute!" he shouted. "I saw the way you were looking at each other!"  
  
"No," she protested weakly.  
  
He advanced on her slowly, like a lion stalking its prey. "You will not be two-timing me," he said dangerously. By this time, Brynne was cowering before him, her back pressed against the wall, his face mere inches from hers. "You belong to me, and I will not tolerate any more of this behaviour from you."  
  
Brynne was thoroughly frightened at this point. She slowly released the snake she had coiled around her left arm. It was a copperhead named Mordechai. It dropped quietly to the floor and slithered down the hallway in the direction from which they had come.  
  
Draco was sitting in the Potions classroom when, out of the corner of his eye he saw something moving in the doorway. When he looked up, however, nothing was there. He must be seeing things, he was so furious at himself. He thought back to the things he had said to Crabbe and Goyle. What did they think? He growled at himself. What they thought didn't matter to him; they were beneath him.  
  
As he was staring at his feet, thinking dark thoughts to himself, a copper- coloured snake with intricate patterns of golden brown slithered up to him and wrapped itself around his ankle. Draco stifled a scream. He looked up quickly, thinking that Potter had sent this snake after him. When he saw no one, he dismissed the idea. The snake was tugging on his leg, trying to take him somewhere. Draco stood up, not in the habit of being led around by animals, he wasn't quite sure what to do. He started walking in the direction the snake was pulling him. As he walked further down the hall, the snake became more frantic. Not knowing what to expect, Draco pulled out his wand. As he approached the next corner, he heard a raised voice, and whenever the voice stopped, a soft whimpering in a voice he recognized.  
  
The sound made his blood boil, but he composed himself. He walked quietly to the corner and peered down the hallway. There was Brynne, pinned to the wall with her arms wrenched painfully above her head. Aydrian looked down at her predatorily, and leaned his head down to kiss her. Brynne winced, and as Draco made a move to step in, the snake came out of nowhere and bit Aydrian's ankle.  
  
Brynne was immediately released and slumped to the floor against the wall as Aydrian howled in agony. As Aydrian's attention was focused elsewhere, Brynne scooped up the snake and concealed it in one large sleeve of her robes.  
  
Aydrian turned and glared down at Brynne. "That wouldn't have been Mordechai, now would it?" he asked through gritted teeth.  
  
Brynne, eyes wide, shook her head quickly.  
  
"I would certainly hope not," he said threateningly. "You never know what could happen, if I found out it was." And with that, he turned and limped down the hall in the direction of the hospital wing.  
  
When Aydrian was out of sight and earshot, Draco stepped out from around the corner and went over to Brynne. "Are you ok?" he asked softly.  
  
"Yes, but I think my wrist is broken," she answered, not meeting his eyes.  
  
Draco's eyes flashed angrily. "Why do you let him treat you that way? You are entirely too good for a troll like him!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Really. You think so?" she asked quietly.  
  
"Yes," he stated forcefully, reddening when he realized how he sounded.  
  
"Can you fix my arm?" she asked, wincing as she tried to move it.  
  
"I don't think so," he whispered. "I think you're giving me too much credit." He cringed inwardly as the words came out of his mouth, seemingly of their own accord.  
  
"Well then, watch and learn," she said, producing her wand from the folds of her robes. Her wand was her pride and joy. Ten inches long, made of cherry wood, and containing a dragon's heartstring. It was a beautiful auburn colour. She gently touched its tip to her wrist and mumbled some words. She then made a fist and released it. "Much better." She looked up and found herself staring into silver eyes, extraordinarily close to her face. "Um, uh.Draco?" she whispered.  
  
"Yes?" he whispered back.  
  
"Could you help me get up?" she asked rather bluntly.  
  
"Oh," he said clearing his head. He'd been expecting something else. "Yeah, sure," he replied, sounding a bit disappointed, and cursing himself for hiding it so ineffectively. He reached for her arms, but she only gave him one. When he reached for the other, she pulled away sharply. "But that's not even the one you hurt," he said inquisitively.  
  
"I know that, but you don't want to mess with what's up this sleeve." She pulled it back, revealing the very same copper snake that had led him to her. It was entwined comfortably around her bicep.  
  
"Oh, this guy. Yes, I've already had the pleasure. He's really a gorgeous snake. Copperhead, right?" he asked, looking up at her as he carefully disentangled the snake from her arm and let it slither through his fingers. Her eyes were wide with wonder. "What?" he asked.  
  
"Um, it's just that typically copperheads are very aggressive. Mordechai doesn't like any people other than me. But look at him!" Mordechai was lounging on Draco's shoulders. "He is as docile as anything!"  
  
"Well, I'm not a Parselmouth, if that's what you're thinking, you would have heard me use Parseltongue."  
  
"True," she muttered thoughtfully. "I'd like to see how you fare with my other familiar," she said, more to herself than to Draco. She had recalled something from a book on familiars she had read over the summer. It had said that, more often than not, a familiar could sense its master's soul mate before they did. This would explain Mordechai's unusual behaviour. But still, she wanted to see Aidynn's reaction to Draco Malfoy before she jumped to any hasty conclusions. Especially considering Aydrian. She didn't need any more disastrous run-ins unless they were really necessary. She knew she could put Aydrian in his place if needs be, but then she would have to deal with half the seventh year boys in Slytherin. Not a pleasant prospect. Of course, with Draco, the Golden Boy of Slytherin, on her side they would all be a little less apt to fight.  
  
"Other familiar?" asked Draco, breaking her thoughts. "You mean you have two?"  
  
"Yes," she replied. "I just couldn't decide between them. Mordechai I've been raising ever since he was a hatchling. That must have been two and a half years ago. But Aidynn, I just found him over the summer. Still quite young. Took to me like I was his mother," she said smiling.  
  
Draco wondered to himself what kind of creature this "Aidynn" could be. He also wondered if this one was also hidden in her robes. 'I bet it's another snake,' he thought to himself. "Is it another snake?" he asked.  
  
"No," she answered. "Although I have been wanting a python of some kind. Aidynn is a red fox."  
  
A fox! Now that seemed an interesting choice for a Parselmouth from Slytherin. He wondered at the reasoning behind such a choice. Although he was sure they looked marvelous together, Brynne's hair being the shade of red that it was. He reddened unconsciously and cursed at himself inwardly for having such thoughts. "I would be delighted to meet your fox," he said. He looked closely at her clothing. "You don't happen to have him with you, do you?" he asked with a wry smile.  
  
Brynne turned scarlet. "No," she said. "I keep him in my room. Unless you're hungry, we can go visit him now. I seem to have lost my appetite," she said bitterly.  
  
"No, now's fine," he answered quickly, noting her bitterness. 


	4. Ch 04 Of Foxes and Owls

Ch. 04 Of Foxes and Owls  
  
Which is how Draco Malfoy found himself in the Slytherin fifth-year girls' dormitory. "Sit there," Brynne told him, pointing to an empty space on the floor next to her bed.  
  
"On the floor?" he asked, shocked.  
  
"Yes," she replied, more than a little exasperation finding its way into her voice.  
  
"Ok then." Draco wondered why he was so eager to please this girl.  
  
Brynne kneeled next to her bed, and peered beneath it. She reached under and pulled out a large wicker basket. To Draco's surprise, she put her face to it and began to make a purring sound from deep within her throat.  
  
"What are you doing? Can you communicate with foxes as well?"  
  
"No," she said laughing. "Or at least, not in the same way I can talk to snakes. I was telling Aidynn it was me, but not in his language. He can recognize the sound of my voice. If I hadn't done that and had just opened the basket, he may have gotten a bit nippy without realizing who it was." They could now hear excited-sounding yips coming from inside the basket. She carefully unlatched it, and as soon as the lid was opened, a small ball of fur launched itself in her direction. She caught it in her arms easily, and it began to attack her face with licks. Brynne giggled.  
  
Draco was charmed by the affection this girl bestowed upon her familiars. He hadn't realized that Slytherins were allowed to display affection.  
  
When the little fox stopped licking Brynne, it realized they were not alone in the room. Noticing Draco, it jumped out of Brynne's arms and warily approached him. Aidynn stopped every few steps to sniff the air as he approached this stranger.  
  
Brynne, breath caught in her throat, eagerly awaited Aidynn's reaction to Draco Malfoy. Aidynn inched closer and closer, and when he reached the place in front of where Draco was sitting, he took a deep long sniff and released it in a deep sigh. Then, with no warning, Aidynn leapt at Draco, and appeared to be quite intent upon removing Draco's face with his tongue.  
  
Draco was enjoying this, but he couldn't let Brynne know. He made a show of pretending to try to pull the little fox off, hoping she wouldn't intervene. And she didn't. Draco looked up and realized she was too busy looking completely shocked to "help" him. "What's the matter?" he asked.  
  
Brynne tried to clear her head. No guy did this to her. And what was wrong with her familiars? They were acting so weird. Yes, she had read the book, but still, she hadn't been expecting it to be right. They didn't like anyone but her. But here was Draco, sitting on the floor of her room, with Mordechai draped lazily across his shoulders and Aidynn lavishing him with the only kind of affection he knew how to provide. Brynne allowed herself a small smile. Draco was loving it, she could tell. He was acting as though he were trying to escape, but not very well. A thought occurred to her. "Can I meet your familiar?" she asked, completely ignoring Draco's prior question.  
  
"Um, sure," he replied, making a move to give Aidynn and Mordechai back.  
  
"That's ok, they seem to be enjoying your attentions. They can come with us." With that Brynne walked out of the room and stood just outside the door, waiting for him to lead her to his room. Draco stepped out the door, Mordechai still on his shoulders, Aidynn bouncing around his feet.  
  
"Follow me," he told her, leading her to his private room just down the hall. The Slytherin Quidditch Captain got his own room, and it was decorated quite lavishly as well, according to Draco's taste. In a large gilded cage in the corner of the room sat his eagle owl. It was about a foot tall, its golden plumage shining as it turned to look at the newcomers. Its amber eyes lit up and it fluffed its ear tufts when it saw Draco.  
  
Draco started to approach the cage, but then thought better of it when he felt Mordechai shift on his shoulders. "Maybe you should just go over there. But I'm not sure it's a good idea to let him out. I don't know how he'll react to you, or Mordechai and Aidynn."  
  
Brynne strode purposefully up to the cage. The owl didn't seem in the least surprised. Then, as Draco watched in wonder, she unlatched the door of the cage and reached her arm inside. The owl perched easily on her wrist, and she removed it. The owl seemed quite calm, and inched its way up her arm to sit on her shoulder. Then, to Draco's utter amazement, his owl nuzzled Brynne's neck. His owl had never even shown him any affection, but then, Draco reflected, he really wasn't all that affectionate to the owl either. But in any case, this girl was special. He silently cursed. 'No!' he screamed to himself. 'You are not allowed to think such things! Stop right this instant!' But she was so stunning. 'Hey, what did I tell you?'  
  
Draco's inner conflict lasted several minutes. Finally, his more stoic side won. Or so he thought.  
  
Brynne was scratching under the owl's chin when she heard a weird squeaking sound. "What's that?" she asked Draco, who had a foul expression on his face. However, as soon as he heard her voice, he looked instantly more pleased.  
  
"Hmmm?" he asked, looking up as if noticing her for the first time.  
  
"That sound," she replied as it happened again. "What is it?"  
  
"Oh!" he exclaimed, hearing it for the first time. "That's just my ferret. Would you like to meet her?"  
  
"I didn't know you had a ferret. And do you not name your familiars?" she inquired.  
  
"No one knows I have a ferret. They would think it was too funny considering the exceedingly traumatic event I endured last year. And as to naming my familiars, between you and me, I believe showing any sort of emotional attachment is a weakness that can be exploited. Giving something a name would be a way of showing attachment."  
  
Draco looked so sad when he said this. Brynne was finally getting a look at the real Draco Malfoy, and she like what she saw. He was really a scared, insecure, vulnerable person on the inside. She needed to protect him, from people who would hurt him or his pride, yes, but mostly from himself. She put the owl gently in its cage and glided over to Draco. She was compelled to hug him, to hold him, and before he could protest, Brynne had her arms wrapped around his neck after carefully repositioning Mordechai) with her head rested on his chest.  
  
All his culture and upbringing were doing him no good whatsoever. Draco Malfoy was clueless. He had a girl hanging from his neck and he hadn't even the presence of mind to hold her for a full five minutes. He then wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her to him, shuddering slightly at the closeness of the moment. His lips lightly grazed her forehead unconsciously. He realized that this was going to be bad for his image. He was even more surprised when he realized he didn't care.  
  
"Shadow," she whispered.  
  
"What?" he asked quietly, pulling back to examine her face.  
  
"Your ferret. Name her shadow."  
  
Draco laughed, a sound that began deep in his chest and traveled up and out from there. It was much different from his typical arrogant laugh, more sincere.but with something else that Brynne didn't recognize in his voice.  
  
"What?" Brynne asked, sounding hurt. "You don't like my name?"  
  
"You'll understand when you see her." Draco moved away from her to pull the blanket from the cage beside that of his owl. Brynne found herself staring at a ferret with fur the colour of Draco's hair. She was a glorious animal, and extremely animate as well. As soon as the cage had been uncovered, she had begun pacing to and fro in front of the door, waiting impatiently to be released.  
  
"May I?" asked Brynne.  
  
"Careful," he said affirmatively. "This one's feisty." "We should get along just fine," Brynne smirked in response. Brynne approached the cage and opened the door slowly. "Shadow?" she inquired to the ferret. Shadow squeaked excitedly and bounded out the door and up to Brynne's shoulder in two swift leaps. Brynne couldn't have felt more turmoil in her heart if she had actively tried. She was completely overjoyed at the evidence of her connection with Draco, but on the other hand absolutely terrified of what Aydrian would do to them when he found out. 


	5. Ch 05 Fury

Ch. 05 Fury  
  
Aydrian Flint was in a rage. He had heard that neither Brynne nor Draco Malfoy had made it to the Great Hall for lunch two hours ago. (It was good to have prefects for friends.) He snarled. He was going to hunt down Malfoy and carve his heart out with a spoon! But first to find the prat. He reflected.a very difficult thing for someone with all the brain cells of a rubber duck to do. Where were they most likely to be? If he knew Malfoy, and he thought he did, he figured them to be in Brynne's room. Malfoy was a rat, and Aydrian hated him with a passion. Everyone thought Malfoy was so great. Slytherin's Golden Boy. Not if he could help it.Malfoy was going to be Slytherin's Black and Blue Boy when Aydrian got through with him. He stalked darkly from the hospital wing. He snarled again. He couldn't wait to get his hands on Malfoy. Forget magic, he wanted to inflict the pain himself. He cracked his knuckles. He was going to enjoy this.  
  
He climbed the stairs to the fifth-year hallway and with out knocking strode into the girls' dormitory. The two girls within screamed in terror at the sight of a male entering their room. Then one of them, Pansy Parkinson, realized who it was. She stopped screaming and smiled coyly. "What are you doing here?" she asked seductively.  
  
Ignoring her tone, he answered, "Looking for Brynne."  
  
"Well," she said pouting, "Brynne's not here. But I am."  
  
"Yes, well, that's nice," he replied, completely ignoring her innuendo. "Do you know where Brynne went?" he asked. He would not let a little sexpot like Pansy dissuade him from his mission.  
  
"No," Pansy said, sounding rejected. "You certainly have a one-track mind, don't you? But, come to think of it, I do have an idea of where she is," she said, brightening visibly, with a gleam in her eye that only Slytherins can have.  
  
"Would you like to let me in on it?" he asked, growing frustrated.  
  
Pansy smiled evilly. This was the perfect opportunity to reap her revenge on Brynne for snagging Aydrian first. "Hmmm." she said thoughtfully. "I seem to remember seeing Brynne and Draco Malfoy headed into his private room."  
  
Aydrian growled, a truly wretched sound. He turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him. He was fuming. So they'd spent the last two hours together? In Malfoy's room no less. That spoiled prat! Thought he could have whatever he wanted and looked to start with Brynne? Aydrian didn't think so. He didn't like other people touching his things, and he was going to make Malfoy regret the day he was born. Aydrian made his way to the end of the hall quickly. When he arrived at Malfoy's door, he stood just outside, listening for signs of what they were doing within. Unfortunately for Aydrian, he could not hear a thing. Aydrian tried the door. Locked. Furious, he began to bang on the door. "Open up!" he shouted. "I know you two are in there!"  
  
Brynne was still thinking about the consequences her actions were going to have when she heard someone slamming their fist against the door and a voice that sent the chill of ice running through her veins. She looked at Draco; her eyes portraying her utter terror better than words ever could. "What are we going to do?" she whispered, looking very much like a frightened rabbit.  
  
Draco frowned. He knew what he had to do. He realized his efforts would most likely be for naught. How could a fifth-year, no matter how talented, take on a seventh-year and hope to win? But he was Slytherin, in its purest form. Raw ambition. He would win, simply because failure was not in his vocabulary as a Slytherin and Malfoy. "Everything's going to be fine," he told her. "I would protect you at all costs." He had given up trying to deny it. He wanted to protect her and was willing to acknowledge he was human after all. He had no idea when this new development had occurred; it was all blended together. Her eyes, the embrace, her affection for the animals.it all mattered, and yet none of it did, if one part was missing.  
  
Brynne was oddly comforted by Draco's strong words, despite the growing urgency of the pounding on the door. She gave Draco the bravest smile she could muster and returned Shadow to her cage. "You'd better let me take Mordechai. And do you have anywhere I can put Aidynn? He simply hates Aydrian and could get hurt if left to his own devices."  
  
Draco pulled an empty box from his closet. "Is this good?" he asked. Brynne nodded. Draco lifted Aidynn and deposited him within. He closed the box and carefully shoved it beneath his bed. Then he handed Mordechai back to Brynne, who wrapped the copper snake back around her bicep and smoothed her sleeve.  
  
"I'll help you in any way I can. Know this: Aydrian has probably come unarmed and without his wand, judging from the fact that he hasn't been able to open the door. Although I wouldn't put it past him to have forgotten how to unlock doors magically," she said under her breath. "He considers this a matter of pride and means to best you with his bare hands. If you use magic to beat him, he will never consider this over. You must beat him at his own game and by his rules, so to speak."  
  
"Understood," Draco replied. "Stand back, over there in the corner," he commanded, steeling himself against the challenge he was about to accept. Brynne obeyed and moved beside the owl's cage. 'Why are you doing this! You're going to die!' shouted Draco's inner coward as he approached the door and unlocked it. He then stepped away and watched expectantly as the doorknob turned and the door swung open.  
  
There stood Aydrian Flint, face red, and looking mad as Hell. His eyes, black with ire, darted from Malfoy, who was standing before him looking smug, to Brynne, who was cowering in the corner beside two cages. Aydrian refocused on Malfoy. "You will rue the day you dared cross me, Malfoy!" he shouted, practically spitting out the last words. "Brynne is mine!" he exclaimed. "But since you are obviously too spoiled to respect other people's possessions, I'll have to teach you some manners. Prepare yourself for a world of pain!" he cried, lunging at Draco.  
  
Aydrian may well have been the stronger and larger of the two, but Draco was slighter, and therefore quicker. He easily sidestepped the charge and brought his elbow down forcefully between Aydrian's shoulder blades. Aydrian landed with a crunch on his face. He got up quickly and turned to glare at Malfoy, who looked quite pleased with himself. Aydrian tasted blood. He had cut his lip when he landed, and the coppery taste of his own blood in his mouth only fueled his rage.  
  
"Women are not possessions," Draco said, shocking himself as the words came tumbling from his mouth. "If you do not know this, then perhaps it is you who needs a lesson in manners," he commented.  
  
Aydrian snarled at the words and attacked again, this time with some of what he thought were well-aimed punches. The first glanced off Malfoy's chiseled jaw, but Draco swept under the second and struck out with an uppercut, sending Flint into the wall behind him. Aydrian regained his senses slowly. He looked up and saw Malfoy sneering down at him. "You smug little bastard!" he hissed.  
  
"Oh, no, I am fully aware of where I came from and who my father is, but frankly, your origins have been a mystery to me. Perhaps you could enlighten me?" he replied, his face not changing. With no warning, Aydrian leapt up and tackled Draco, pummeling him with both fists mercilessly.  
  
Brynne was standing in the corner. As Draco lost his edge, she began to whimper and slid down the wall to the floor. Head in her hands, she began to cry, tears pouring from her eyes and streaming down her face. She couldn't watch this. She heard a growling coming from under Draco's bed, but before she could react, Aidynn burst from the box and leapt onto Aydrian's back. In an attempt to protect Draco, he sank his sharp little teeth into Aydrian's neck and began to tear at his flesh.  
  
Aydrian howled in pain. He paused in his attack long enough to reach behind him to grab Aidynn and hurl him against the wall. Aidynn slumped in an unconscious heap on the floor.  
  
"No!" screamed Brynne. She scrambled to Aidynn and gathered him in her arms. "He's alive," she breathed, cradling him to her.  
  
While Aydrian was distracted, Draco got in a particularly forceful punch that sent him flying. Draco then pounced on Aydrian and punched him hard in the jaw, knocking him out. He got up after examining his handiwork gleefully and walked over to Brynne. "Is he alright?" he asked softly.  
  
"Yes," she replied. "Is he?" she asked, clearly indicating Flint.  
  
"I hope not," then, seeing the look of horror on her face changed his answer. "Well, he's still alive, if that's what you mean, but as far as alright, I'd say far from it. I just did a number on his pride. He just lost a fight with a fifth-year, and his girlfriend all in one day" Draco went over to Aydrian's life-less form and grabbed him by the wrists. He pulled him to the door, opened it, and heaved the body out. Pansy Parkinson appeared to have been waiting outside his door. "You may want to take care of that. No one else wants to," he said, disgusted.  
  
Pansy frowned, and looked ready to comment, but then thought better of it when she saw the murderous expression on his face. She knelt by Aydrian's side and tried to wake him up as Draco reentered his room and slammed the door behind him. 


	6. Ch 06 Confrontation

Ch. 06 Confrontation  
  
He stood scowling at the door for some moments, before he felt Brynne wrap her arms around his waist and rest her head in the middle of his back. Draco's countenance visibly brightened. "Are you ok?" he asked.  
  
"I am now," she replied contentedly.  
  
He turned to face her. "Oh no!" she cried. "You're bleeding!" Her hand fluttered to his lip where he had been punched.  
  
"That?" he asked. "That's nothing. I've had much worse," he said, puffing out his chest.  
  
She giggled. "Oh really?"  
  
"Yes!" he cried, eyes narrowed. "How do you think I earned my reputation?" he asked in mock insult.  
  
Brynne looked thoughtful. "Hmm.like this?" she whispered, eyes half-closed, her lips drifting closer and closer to his mouth.  
  
Suddenly Brynne heard the sound of a key turning in the lock and the door burst open, revealing a seriously pissed-off prefect. Unfortunately for Draco, this particular prefect was one of Aydrian's better friends, and so was quite unsympathetic to his situation.  
  
"You're coming with me to Snape's office, Malfoy," stated the prefect angrily. "And you," he said turning to Brynne. "I suggest you collect your things and return to your room before I find a reason to take you in as well."  
  
Brynne snatched up Aidynn, who had begun to regain consciousness. Then she scurried out, gazing at Draco, her gratitude showing in her bright green eyes.  
  
"Follow me, Malfoy," commanded the prefect triumphantly and led him to Snape's office. Draco found himself standing outside the office door as the prefect walked in and informed Snape of his offenses.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy!" shouted Snape as the prefect left his office with a pleased smirk on his face.  
  
Draco went into the Slytherin Head's office. "Yes, sir?" he asked quietly.  
  
"I cannot believe you would fight with a fellow Slytherin," Snape began. "Would you care to explain yourself?"  
  
"He came to my room, looking for a fight. He attacked first, and I was merely defending myself," Draco answered coolly.  
  
"And what about this girl, Brynne Dharielle? How was she involved?" Snape inquired.  
  
"Well, she was the reason Flint wanted to fight me."  
  
"Oh? How so?"  
  
"I suppose he was jealous that we were spending time together," Draco said rather sheepishly, embarrassed to have to explain this to his Head of House. "He was her boyfriend."  
  
"Ah. Now I completely understand. I'm glad. Frankly, I was beginning to worry about you, Draco. I was beginning to think my protégé was only interested in the male types," Snape said, the closest expression to a smile his face could form just touching the corners of his mouth.  
  
Draco's mouth fell open. "Wha-?"  
  
"Don't be so surprised. After seeing how much time you spend with Crabbe and Goyle, you can't possibly blame me for thinking such things. And the time you spend obsessing over Mr. Potter. It would seem, with the amount of time you spend tormenting him, that you had a bit of a crush on him. Now run along. It's my opinion that you are clear of all charges, and if Aydrian Flint or that prefect or any of Mr. Flint's other friends give you any trouble, feel free to inform me."  
  
Draco couldn't believe his luck. Not only did he now have a girlfriend, but he also had gotten away with fighting, all in the same day. But at the same time, he was seriously disturbed by what Snape had implied. If what Brynne had told him hadn't convinced him, this certainly did. He needed to ditch Crabbe and Goyle. But as for Potter.he could try to curb his taunting, but it would never truly end, not while Potter still had his "Holier Than Thou" attitude.  
  
Draco walked slowly back to his room. Along the way, everyone he saw kept asking why he had gotten into a fight with a seventh-year, and one with as bad a reputation as Flint's. Still more people wanted to know how Draco, medium-height and very slight, had managed to win. Draco, characteristically Malfoy, ignored them all. He went straight up to his room, but when he reached the door, someone was waiting for him.  
  
"Well, well, well. Flint. Haven't you had enough yet?" Draco drawled with his characteristic smirk, after the initial shock of seeing Aydrian again so soon had worn away.  
  
Aydrian glared at him and looked to kill, but suddenly thought better of it. "I actually just came to tell you that from now on, I'm going to leave Brynne alone. You can have her. I don't want her anymore." Before Draco could interject, Aydrian continued, "I've found something better anyways."  
  
"First of all, women are not possessions. Second, don't make it sound as if you broke it off, she didn't want you, so I broke it off for her. And third, I would just love to know what pathetic creature could be convinced to he your girlfriend now," said Draco icily.  
  
As he spoke the words, Pansy Parkinson walked up the hallway to Aydrian and kissed him on the cheek. "Hello, Draco. Are you two quite finished? We were going to go to the library to study," she said winking at Draco.  
  
Draco groaned. "Well, I could have guessed. You've got yourself quite a catch there, Flint. A perfect match if I do say so myself. How many seventh- years do you have left now?" he asked, directing his question to Pansy. She simply glared at him as she led Flint down the stairs and toward the library.  
  
Draco opened his bedchamber door, entered his room, and closed and locked the door behind him. He sighed and leaned his forehead against the cool mahogany. His life had changed so much in the past few hours. He honestly had no idea what to do. He needed to distance himself from Crabbe and Goyle, but if they weren't already, people would certainly begin talking if he cut Crabbe and Goyle off. But he was a Malfoy. He couldn't let peoples' opinions of him matter. As he stood there thinking dark thoughts, a pair of hands dropped onto his shoulders. 


	7. Ch 07 Spy

Ch. 07 Spy  
  
Draco knew who it was without looking. "What are you doing here?" he asked hoarsely, without turning. He shrugged their hands off.  
  
"We're worried about you, Draco. What's wrong with you? First talking to that girl in class."Goyle began before he was interrupted.  
  
"Since when have you two ever worried about me? And she is not some girl as she has already informed you two. She is far more deserving of my company than either of you ever could be. She likes me for me, not because I happen to be Lucius Malfoy's son and the heir to his legacy," Draco retorted angrily.  
  
"Damn, Draco, what's happened to you? Did Aydrian knock you a little too hard in your head? Since when has anything but your image meant anything to you?" Goyle was the smarter of Draco's henchmen, but even Draco was impressed with his perception this time. However, this did not quell his anger at Goyle's implication.  
  
"I am not having this conversation with you two idiots," he said, more to himself that than to either Crabbe or Goyle. "You may not have realized, being the insufferable gits you are," he said louder, "but these things have always mattered to me, but up until I met Brynne, everyone had told me I was wrong to care. Now I've decided I don't give a shit what any of you fake people think of me."  
  
Goyle narrowed his eyes, but Crabbe just stared at him, a glazed look on his face, obviously not understanding what Draco just said. "Malfoy, you are cracked. That girl has obviously done something to your head. I think it's time Crabbe and I had a little chat with her," Goyle said, sneering and cracking his knuckles.  
  
"She is not just some girl!" Draco shouted, finally losing his temper. He grabbed Goyle by the collar of his robes and slammed him against the door. "She is my girlfriend," he continued, voice dropping to a feral snarl, nose mere inches from Goyle's, eyes narrowed into silver slits. "And if you so much as breathe wrong in her direction, you will be wishing you were a Muggle and had never come to Hogwarts! Now get the hell out of my room, before I have you reported for trespassing." With that, Draco pulled Goyle away from the door, still grasping his collar, opened it and practically threw him out. He turned to Crabbe, who was still rooted to the same spot, mouth gaping, eyes wide with fear. "Now!" Draco shouted, and Crabbe scurried out the door.  
  
Once they were gone, Draco heaved a great sigh and sank into the black velvet armchair that sat next to his four-poster bed. Head in his hands, he willed the tears to stop from coming. There was no turning back. He had made his choice. He had chosen Brynne, the only person who seemed to truly care about him, over everything else in his life, and he didn't even understand why.  
  
After Brynne had left Draco's room, she waited down the hall a ways until Draco, escorted by the prefect, had left his room. She then snuck back into his room and sat on his bed to await his return. Imagine her shock when, instead of Draco, the next person to enter the room was Goyle, with the ever loyal, ever stupid Crabbe right beside him. 'That boy should have been in Hufflepuff,' she thought to herself. She was lucky the drapes of the bed had been partially closed, and that the curtains were drawn over the windows. She didn't want to think about what could have happened had she been found.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle had then begun to whisper what seemed to be a heated argument. Crabbe appeared in favor of leaving, while Goyle was insistent on "making a point". There were several points in the conversation where there were mentions of "that girl". She assumed they meant her, and was extremely angry they did not seem to remember her name. Her family was one of the richest in the wizarding world, and yet those idiots could not even respect her enough to refer to her by her surname, at the very least.  
  
How pleased she had been when Draco had returned, until she had read his body language and realized the complete despair he was experiencing. She knew that Crabbe and Goyle were not wise to attack him or his decisions at this point, but she was also eager to see them suffer at the hands of the one they had used for so long. And she had been beyond delighted when he had defended her. But now, here he was again, sitting, looking lost and dejected in the dark, solemn room.  
  
She silently slid off the bed and padded stealthily to the back of the chair he was sitting in. Slowly, carefully, she lowered herself and bent her neck and softly breathed warmly on the back of his graceful neck. He shivered visibly, but made no move to turn. Then she gently began to explore the back of his neck with her tongue, tracing the contours lightly. Draco was relaxed, and yet shuddering simultaneously. Brynne was simply loving the look of him, the uncontrollable convulsions adding to his appearance of vulnerability. She was also enjoying the salty taste of his skin on her tongue.  
  
Draco didn't know how Brynne had gotten into his room, but he had known it was her without looking. She smelled of roses, and he had known she was there before he had felt her breath on his neck. He loved the delicious sensations she was sending up and down his spine.  
  
As she paused in what she was doing, Draco got out of the chair and turned to look at her, his astonishment and affection manifest on his face. His mouth formed a coy smirk as he pushed the chair from between them, inadvertently knocking it over. He drew his arms around her slender waist and pressed her lithe body to his muscular one.  
  
His eyes glowed silver as he stared down into her enigmatic green ones. "You realize what I've done for you," he whispered softly, not breaking his gaze. She nodded, her eyes not leaving his. His mouth drifted closer to hers. "You'd better not make me regret it."  
  
Brynne's eyes flashed angrily. Draco didn't see this, as his eyes were already closed as he moved in for the kiss. But instead of returning it, Brynne bit Draco sharply on the neck. "The only thing you will regret, is ever saying that," she said in response to Draco's quizzical look.  
  
Then, she stood on her tiptoes, trying to reach Draco's mouth, before seizing the sides of his head and pulling it down to a level she could reach. She stared into those stormy eyes. She could she confusion playing across them. "You're just lucky I can't seem to hold a grudge long," she muttered. Then, keeping her eyes open, locked on Draco's, she lightly brushed her lips across his. The kiss began delicately, searchingly. Draco soon tired of this, however, and pulling her closer, deepened the kiss, running his tongue across her lips until she parted them slightly, allowing him to explore her teeth.  
  
He caressed her tongue with his, until Brynne grew playful and began to nibble lightly on it. She then nipped his lower lip lightly, before she kissed a trail from his mouth, up his jaw to his ear. A sigh escaped his throat as she nibbled his earlobe.  
  
Draco turned Brynne around and loosed her hair from the elastic that held it in a braid. He ran his hands through it gently as it fell in a cascade of coppery waves with streaks of charcoal running through it. He fingered some of the black strands curiously. "What is this from?"  
  
"A few too many close-calls with fire," she answered. "It appears that my hair is permanently scorched." She grinned. "And to think the Weasley twins have always gotten the credit for my pyromaniacal misadventures. But what am I to do this year, now that they've graduated?" she pouted playfully. "Everyone knows how innocent I am though. No one would suspect me, although I think the twins were putting the pieces together," she stated, a smirk on her lips.  
  
Draco could only smile. But as he moved to kiss her again, she put her fingers to his lips. "It's about dinner time, and I'm hungry after skipping lunch." With that, she unlocked the door and opened it, walking out to wait for Draco to regain his composure.  
  
Draco stared after her. "Good brakes too," he muttered, following her out the door. As he exited, he offered Brynne his arm. She graciously accepted it, and he escorted her, like a king escorting a queen, all the way to the Great Hall. There, they knew, everyone was awaiting their presence. 


	8. Ch 08 Strange Reactions

Ch. 08 Strange Reactions  
  
  
  
"I'm nervous," whispered Brynne as they walked up the stairs from the dungeon.  
  
"Don't be," replied Draco. "None of them matters anyway."  
  
"But still." she began.  
  
"Shh," he interrupted. "I don't care what they think. I know what I want, and I'm not going to change my mind, even if everyone in there is against us."  
  
His words were strong, but she was still anxious. He looked down at her and could read the worry all over her face. By now, they were standing just outside the Great Hall's mahogany doors. He turned her until she was standing in front of him. "Relax," he told her. "You just need to relax." The last words were whispered as he leaned down to kiss her. He gathered her to him and held her until she stopped shaking. "Better?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," she replied. She took his arm again and gave him her bravest smile.  
  
"Good." Draco opened the huge door and they stepped inside the enormous dining room. They were a good ten minutes late, so when they entered, every single head swiveled their way. They were met with irritated looks from professors, well, except for Snape, who looked on with approval. Some students had angry expressions on their faces, Goyle, Pansy, and Flint being the most notable ones. But mostly, Draco and Brynne were met with expressions of uncomprehending interest.  
  
As per usual, Draco's eyes drifted over to the Gryffindor table where Potter and the other two stooges were seated. They were all talking heatedly, while throwing confused looks in his direction. Draco was tempted to go over and introduce them to Brynne. Instead, deciding that would be too unusual, he led Brynne to the place that was reserved for him: the place of honor at the center of the table.  
  
Unfortunately, it appeared that the Slytherins, mainly Crabbe and Goyle Draco surmised, had left room for only one. Knowing he would be judged by how he reacted, Draco made his decision quickly. He studied the two people sitting on either side of the empty seat. Crabbe and Goyle. Then, making a snap decision he knew he would probably live to regret, Draco pulled Goyle up by the back of his robes and removed him from the table. Draco then seated Brynne next to Crabbe, who he knew wouldn't be any sort of threat, and he himself sat in Goyle's seat. As Goyle retreated to find a new seat, his eyes sent flaming arrows at Brynne.  
  
Draco felt eyes on him from all over the room. The whole hall was silent. Just when he thought the tension was going to make his head explode, he heard a high-pitched voice ask, "Can I take your picture?" Draco looked around for the source of the distraction and found the mousy little Mudblood Gryffindor that carried the Muggle picture box around everywhere he went. If it weren't for the unbelievable gross factor and the fact that Draco didn't fly that side of the Quidditch pitch and the fact that he was a bloody Gryffindor, Draco could have kissed the Creevey kid.  
  
The tension broken, the other students began conversing amongst themselves again. Mostly about Draco and his mystery girl, but at least their scrutiny wasn't so obvious. Draco ignored Creevey and turned to Brynne. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" he asked quietly, squeezing her hand. He noticed the faint sheen of a layer of perspiration on her face. He narrowed his eyes. Why was this bothering her so much?  
  
Brynne was terrified. All those eyes, staring at her, judging her, telling her she wasn't good enough. She may have been the most recent in one of the longest lines of pureblood wizards, but she preferred to stay unknown, afraid of what nosy people like Pansy Parkinson would find if they dug too deep in the family secrets. That and she simply wasn't accustomed to this much attention all at once.  
  
Even as a member of the house Quidditch team she didn't get much attention. No one even knew she was on the team. She was almost certain Draco didn't even know, and he was her Captain! First of all, she was a Beater, the position that received the least amount of attention. Second, she always wore her hood over her head to cover her face and played under an alias: Bry. Third, she always kept to herself, in uniform and in her school robes. She was like a fly on the wall to most people. Until now, anyway. She couldn't handle all this attention.all those eyes. Gentle pressure on her hand pulled her from her thoughts. "Hmmm?" she asked.  
  
"Are you alright? You look a little pale," murmured Draco.  
  
"I'm fine, really," she began, before her sparkling green eyes grew cloudy and rolled back into her head as she fell backwards.  
  
Some how, Draco managed to catch her just before her head hit the marble floor. He vaguely heard those around him talking, most worried, some laughing (he would make them regret that later). He looked towards the table that the professors were seated at, searching for Madame Pomfrey. She was already at his elbow however, examining Brynne. She made a move to cast the levitating spell, but Draco wouldn't let her. Pomfrey looked up at Dumbledore, who was standing in front of his chair, for some intervention, but he simply motioned for her to let it go. Pomfrey resignedly said, "Alright, you can carry her Mr. Malfoy, but you'd best not drop her," and led the way to the hospital wing.  
  
Despite his short stature, Draco was really quite strong. He gathered Brynne to his chest and stood up, stepping over the bench to follow Madame Pomfrey.  
  
As he left the hall, Draco noted some facial expressions. Crabbe had a stupid look on his face, while Goyle, Pansy, and Flint all looked rather smug. Draco decided he would hurt hem later. It would be fun. Then he glanced at the Gryffindor table. He was shocked to see the worry on their faces. Maybe they weren't the prats he assumed them to be. Then he looked at the faces of the Three Stooges and noted, while concern was the dominant expression, they couldn't hide their bewilderment. He assumed it was because they didn't think he could be affectionate. That was the damn bloody Gryffindor's problem, they just didn't think. With that, he carried Brynne after Madame Pomfrey, who was muttering that they could have been to the hospital wing already if Brynne had just been levitated. 


	9. Ch 09 Soft Awakening

Ch. 09 Soft Awakening  
  
Brynne regained consciousness slowly. The last thing she remembered was being in the Great Hall, Draco squeezing her hand, so she was quite surprised to see the stark white walls of the hospital wing when her vision cleared. She did notice however, that Draco still had hold of her hand. Only now, he had her hand in both of his.  
  
She tried to turn her head to look at him, sitting in the chair next to her bed and was shocked when she realized she couldn't. She tilted her head down, to examine what was impeding the movement of her neck. She saw there the last thing she suspected. There was Draco, his head nestled in the side of her neck, asleep. As she moved, Draco shifted slightly, his soft hair tickling her throat. His grey eyes remained closed, giving his face a nearly angelic countenance. She smiled at the thought. He was far from angelic. Well, maybe not as far as she had previously thought. His actions were definitely speaking volumes more than words ever could. Then she grinned devilishly. She had just had an evil thought.  
  
Brynne took her free hand and held it over Draco's head, contemplating her action. She grinned again. 'Why am I hesitating?' she thought. She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair. He must have charmed it into its usual style, because she could feel no residue from styling products as she ruffled his hair. She inhaled deeply. His hair smelled of peppermint.  
  
She soon grew annoyed that he wasn't waking up, so she began to work more vigorously, sending his hair flying in all directions. Unfortunately, Draco was a sound sleeper and was completely unaffected by this. So, with his hair completely disheveled, she had no idea what to do next. Her fingers traveled around his face and neck idly as she tried to think of a creative way to rouse him. As her fingers drifted from his slightly bobbing Adam's apple to his warm lips, a thought occurred to her.  
  
Smiling faintly, her head dipped slightly, and her mouth found his. Draco was unresponsive at first, but then, it seemed as though he were coming around, because he began to kiss her back, although his eyes remained closed and his face remained expressionless. Brynne then pulled back, playfully licking the tip of his nose.  
  
Draco could not control himself. His eyes popped open and his face broke into a smile. "How are you doing?" he asked, sitting up.  
  
"I'm ok," she replied. "I don't really remember what happened though, or why. I just remember being extremely nervous, and then black."  
  
"Well," said Draco, "you passed out. Madame Pomfrey believes it was an anxiety attack," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I caught you before you hit the floor and carried you here," he continued. "You've been out cold for almost five hours."  
  
She stared at him in disbelief. "You carried me all the way from the Great Hall?" she asked. "Why didn't you just levitate me? It would have been much easier."  
  
Draco blushed, which with his pale complexion was absolutely adorable. "Well, I just wanted to carry you," he muttered.  
  
Brynne smiled, a knowing look on her face. "Oh," she said simply. "Well anyways, have I really been unconscious for five hours?"  
  
Madame Pomfrey entered the room just then and, casting a disapproving glance at Draco, said, "Yes, Miss Dharielle, and Mr. Malfoy absolutely refused to leave your side." If it was possible for someone so pale to redden further, Draco certainly managed it. "Anyways," Pomfrey continued, "if you're feeling better and aren't experiencing any dizziness or nausea, I can see no reason to keep you here."  
  
"I'm fine now, Madame Pomfrey, and please forgive Mr. Malfoy," she said, arching an eyebrow in his direction, "for any rudeness or stubbornness. I'm sure it wasn't intentional."  
  
Pomfrey raised her own eyebrows. "Yes, of course," she replied. "The two of you are free to go." Brynne smiled. Draco helped her get out of the bed and held on to her arm tenaciously as they left the room.  
  
It was nearly midnight when Brynne had woken up, so she and Draco both were quite surprised to see the black-haired, blue-eyed girl waiting outside the door. She was short, only about five feet tall, and very petite. Her sleek black hair was cut in a chin-length bob and flashed as the girl looked from Brynne to the tall blonde standing next to her, holding on to her arm, seemingly for dear life. Being in his very presence made her nervous, so she was quite relieved when Brynne spoke up.  
  
"What are you doing here so late, Blair?"  
  
"I was worried about you Brynne," she replied, eyes repeatedly darting back to Draco. "Now was the soonest I could get away unnoticed. The common room is always full of people studying until midnight or so," she said quickly, her slight French accent quavering.  
  
Brynne noticed the other girl's nervousness and hid a smile. Blair had never been good around people. Worse than Brynne actually. She knew for a fact that she was one of the few that Blair was comfortable around. "Of course. Well, I'm fine as you can see. Better than fine, actually," she said with a smile, squeezing Draco's hand lightly. "Draco, I'd like you to meet Blair Richelieu, my best friend," she stated, turning to him. Draco smiled slightly and offered his hand. Blair's hand shook as she took it reluctantly. "Blair, this is Draco Malfoy."  
  
"I can see that my reputation has preceded me," said Draco playfully as he lowered his eyes and kissed her hand.  
  
Brynne smiled approvingly. This was just the way to earn Blair's confidence. Draco's gesture would do wonders in replacing the image Blair's mind obviously had of him.  
  
Blair smiled faintly at Draco before returning her gaze to Brynne. "I was wondering: have you finished that essay for Potions? I need to have you look over mine before I hand it in. Potions is not my strong suit."  
  
"Of course," Brynne answered.  
  
Draco looked slightly confused. "You are a Ravenclaw, right?" he asked Blair, who nodded slowly. "And yet you're asking Brynne for help? Forgive any offence, but I'm afraid I don't understand."  
  
Blair reddened slightly. "Well," she said, not meeting his eyes, "Brynne is second of our year, and simply amazing at Potions. Plus she is my best friend. It would be an insult to ask Hermione Granger for help," Draco saw Brynne visibly cringe at the mere mention of the Gryffindor's name. "Anyways," she continued, "Hermione's no good at Potions anyways, so that doesn't matter. And although I know that you are the best of our year at Potions, there was no way that I was going to ask you for help when my best friend is the second." She turned back to Brynne. "I have the paper right here, so I'll leave you two for the night before I get caught out after curfew." She handed a scroll of parchment to Brynne. "And I hope I'll be able to speak with you tomorrow Brynne, perhaps at breakfast?" she asked, an odd look on her face as she turned and hurried quickly away.  
  
Brynne had caught on immediately. Blair wanted to talk to her about Draco, and obviously didn't want for him to be present. That was fine. Draco was never awake in time for breakfast anyways.  
  
"That was odd," Draco said thoughtfully as he led her towards the dungeons.  
  
"Not so much, really," she replied, more to herself.  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"She wants to talk to me about you, you git," she said playfully. "It was terribly obvious!"  
  
"It was, was it?" he asked with a smirk.  
  
"Of course, to one who knows Blair as well as I do, her intentions are quite transparent."  
  
Arriving at the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Draco and Brynne said the passphrase simultaneously. As they entered the room, they noticed they were not the only ones still awake at this hour. Not that they had expected to be, this being Slytherin after all. Disregarding everyone in the room, who had all turned to stare at them when they had come in, Brynne and Draco had simply gone up the stairs to the fifth-year hall. Draco led Brynne to her room without a word and then stood in front of her door gazing deeply into her emerald eyes, holding her hands in his. He leaned down, and kissed her on her forehead, his soft lips lingering on her smooth skin far longer than was necessary. "I want you to get some sleep. You need it." She turned to go in and he pulled her back to face him. "Just remember, no matter what anyone says to you, it doesn't matter."  
  
Brynne kissed the tip of his nose, and before he could say a word, disappeared into the darkened room.  
  
Draco smiled to himself and walked back to his room. He lay down on his bed with his hands folded behind his head. It took several hours before he finally fell asleep. His mind was too occupied with a certain coy redhead. He still wondered what had happened earlier in the Great Hall. 


	10. Ch 10 The NotSoRude Awakening

Ch. 10 The Not-So-Rude Awakening  
  
Brynne woke up early as usual. Despite being unconscious for five hours, she had found herself exhausted last night and had collapsed on her bed without even changing into her pajamas.  
  
'Oh well,' she thought to herself, slipping out of her wrinkled clothes and into a towel. She then proceeded to the large bathroom she shared with her four roommates. She took a brief shower and then found a clean uniform and put it on quickly, wrapping her long, wet hair in the soft green of her towel like a turban. She happily noted that none of her roommates was awake yet. They almost never were this early, though.  
  
She flipped her hair over and removed the towel, rubbing her head with it to dry her hair. The time she spent fixing her hair was questionably the most relaxing part of her day. She picked up her brush and began to run it through her smouldering red strands. She didn't care how long it took to detangle this way; she preferred this method to charming it. Once she finished brushing, she divided her hair into three parts and began to weave them into a braid, her fingers swiftly and deftly working through the strands. That finished, she pulled on her shoes and made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast.  
  
She was glad hardly anyone ever went to breakfast. The tables weren't segregated into houses this early in the morning. Her eyes searched the room until they spotted Blair, sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table alone. She made her way to the other end of the hall and plopped into the seat across from Blair. "'Morning," she greeted the other girl cheerfully.  
  
"Good morning," came the answer.  
  
"I haven't had a chance to read your essay yet. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow last night."  
  
"That's alright," Blair responded. "It's not due until tomorrow. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about, and you know it!"  
  
Brynne grinned. Of course she knew, she could read Blair like a book. She decided to bait her friend some more. "Quite right. So what was it again you wanted to discuss?"  
  
Blair's blue eyes glittered. "Don't you play the fool. You're not dealing with a Hufflepuff! I want to know what's going on with you and Malfoy! And what happened to Aydrian?!"  
  
Brynne smiled. This was just the reaction she had been expecting. No one had known how miserable she had been with Aydrian, so of course it had come as a complete shock. "This may come as a surprise, but I wasn't happy with Aydrian. He didn't love me; I was just a possession to him. Draco has shown me how special I am, in his own little way. He has revealed to me the person he is afraid to show everyone else he is. I really care about him, and I get the sense that he cares about me as well."  
  
Blair gazed at Brynne over her pancakes. "That makes sense. I wasn't expecting for that to make sense. But it made sense," she answered haltingly.  
  
Brynne lifted her mocha to her lips. She was glad Blair was taking this so well. Her friend had a tendency to be melodramatic. She had been expecting Blair to burst into tears and sob that she and Aydrian had been such a great couple. She took the opportunity that the silence afforded to pull out Blair's essay from her robes to begin reading it over. Blair simply continued looking over her Herbology notes. They continued in silence for a while until a thought occurred to Blair.  
  
"Are you going to tell him?"  
  
"Tell him what?"  
  
"About Bry."  
  
"Hmmm.I'm not sure. Maybe I'll wait and see how long it takes for him to figure it out," Brynne answered, a smirk on her lips.  
  
"But you may not want to wait too long to tell him if he doesn't figure it out for himself. It may come as a betrayal of sorts."  
  
Blair was right, of course. Brynne could see it. She drained the rest of her coffee and then stood up. "Here's your paper," she said, handing it over. "It's fine. You're definitely getting better. Now I've got to go prepare for Transfiguration. It starts in a half-hour. I'll see you later!"  
  
"'Bye!" Blair called after her.  
  
Brynne made her way back to the common room quickly so she could gather her books for McGonagall's class. Brynne didn't particularly like Professor McGonagall, but she was an animagus. Brynne had to respect an animagus, personal feelings aside.  
  
As she climbed the stairs to the rooms, an evil thought occurred to her. She stood outside Draco's room, listening with her ear pressed to the door. Nothing. She tried the knob. It was unlocked, to her delight, and opened noiselessly to reveal a sleeping Draco. She frowned in thought. 'What was it they said about sleeping dragons?' She couldn't remember.  
  
She entered the room, closing the door behind her. Not bothering to be quiet, she walked over to his bed. Nothing short of being shaken violently would wake him up. 'Except.' she thought to herself as she climbed on the bed beside him. Then she threw her leg over him and straddled his stomach, nestling her head in his neck. He didn't even stir. So Brynne decided to opt for more drastic measures. Lifting her head slightly, she took his earlobe in her teeth and began to nibble.  
  
Draco frowned, then opening one of his eyes a fraction, began to smirk. "You couldn't even wait until I woke up? Want me that badly? Well then, I guess I can't hold that against you."  
  
Brynne stifled a giggle. "That might have sounded a bit more convincing had you not been lying in yesterday's rumpled clothes with you hair sticking up every which way." She looked thoughtful. "Actually, I think I like you with bedhead. Yes, I've decided. Very sexy. It is my decree that thou shalt go to all thy classes just as thou are!" she crowed, her eyes sparkling devilishly.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Don't even entertain that thought! There is no way in hell I would ever leave my room looking like this, let alone allow those bloody Gryffindors see me! And we share most of our classes with them!" It was obvious that Brynne was fantasizing their reaction. "Stop daydreaming! There's no way it will ever happen. No way! Are you even listening? Those Gryffindors have seen me fall on my ass, they've seen me bounced around as a ferret, they-they've seen my absolute devotion to you, but never will I ever let them see me unkempt and in disarray!" he finished, shrill and out-of-breath. When he returned his gaze to her, he noticed the demonic gleam had vanished from her eyes, replaced with, well, with something else completely.  
  
Brynne had not been paying attention to his rant, until he had mentioned the ferret incident with Mad-Eye Moody. But then his next words had shocked her to her core. She had known he cared for her; it was quite obvious. But she had never expected for him to come out and say it to her openly. And yet he had. But it seemed as though he hadn't even noticed what he had said. All she could do was stare in wonder.  
  
When Draco finally returned her gaze, she lowered her head, as if to kiss him. Draco closed his exquisite silver eyes, waiting for the soft brush of her lips, but it never came. Instead, he felt her moving on top of him, pulling him closer, wrapping every possible limb around him and cuddling her face in his hair. He could feel her breathe and hear her heartbeat. He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him.  
  
Brynne felt his arms tighten around her protectively and she smiled as she inhaled the peppermint scent of his hair. As she breathed in the heady aroma, she came back to reality with a jolt. McGonagall's class! In less than twenty minutes! And it took fifteen to get there! Frantic, she tried to struggle from his grasp. Unfortunately, she was locked in his embrace and was going to be late for a class for the first time ever!  
  
She hadn't wanted to do this. She wasn't registered, so technically it was illegal. If Draco said anything to anyone (not that she thought he would), she could be in a lot of trouble. How ironic that she was going to do it in order to make it to Transfiguration. 


	11. Ch 11 Scorched

Ch. 11 Scorched!  
  
Only two people, to her knowledge, knew she had this ability: her mother and father. She assumed Professor Dumbledore knew. Being Hogwarts' headmaster, he seemed to know everything that went on under his roof. So that was three adults, two of which were the ones who had taught her. But never had she shown any of her peers, for fear of implicating her parents. She had no idea how Draco would react to this. Undoubtedly it would come as a shock. She hoped he wouldn't be too mad.  
  
She began to focus. She had to ignore his closeness if she were going to achieve the concentration necessary to make the change. She became aware of each and every cell, individually willing them all to transform. She felt herself shrink, arms and legs shortening, joints changing shape, face becoming more angular as her features rearranged themselves. There was an itchy sensation as hair began to sprout all over her body. Her ears, which were now situated at the top of her head, twitched lightly as she listened to his heartbeat quicken. She felt as her tail stopped lengthening and shook it experimentally. It had been so long since her last transformation. She relished the liberation it always seemed to bring. The change took less than a minute to perform, but for her it always seem to take forever. As the transformation ceased, she slipped easily from Draco's arms and sat next to him, sharp eyes watching him closely.  
  
Draco could not believe what had just transpired. Brynne had transfigured right before his eyes. Now he found himself transfixed, staring in awe at the animal seated beside him, her bright green eyes sparkling mischieviously as she awaited his reaction. "Brynne?" he sputtered. "Is that you?"  
  
She nodded, licking her lips (if you could call them lips) and revealing her sharp white teeth. She didn't want him to ask her questions; they could wait until after she was able to talk again! She wanted him to touch her, to feel how silky her fur was, to scratch her behind her ears, damnit!  
  
As if sensing her thoughts, Draco tentatively stretched out his hand and began to run his long fingers through her fur. Most of it was reddish- orange, the same shade as her hair normally was. She was rather large as foxes go, nearly the size of a coyote. But that wasn't the most unusual thing about her (besides the fact that she was a fox in the first place). It was the fact that all the places a red fox was supposed to white, Brynne had black fur. There were also streaks of black running all through the red- orange fur.  
  
Then Brynne remembered why she had transfigured in the first place. She stepped away and jumped down lightly from the bed. She then changed back to her human form. "Meet Scorch," she said quietly. Then, noticing he hadn't moved, her face took on an impatient look. "Are you going to get up or not?" she demanded. "We've got fifteen minutes to get to McGonagall's class!" She then rushed out, before Draco could answer, or even pick his jaw up off the floor. When she returned to him, her book bag slung over her shoulder, she found to her dismay that he was in the same position she had left him, looking completely awestruck. "C'mon you git!" she exclaimed. "We're going to be late! Don't bother getting your books; you can share mine. Just get out of bed! Now!" she shouted, losing what patience she had left.  
  
"Just answer me one question," Draco said, finally scrambling off his bed and attempting to straighten his clothes.  
  
"Fine," Brynne answered, exasperated.  
  
"You were just a fox, weren't you? That wasn't a dream or anything?" Draco picked up his wand and a comb as he left his room. He used the comb to pull his hair back from his face, and then muttered a holding charm to keep the hair in place. Pity it only lasted twenty-four hours.  
  
"Yes, I was," she answered. "But you mustn't tell anyone, or talk about it in public. I'm not registered and my parents could get into a lot of trouble for teaching me. Only one of them is even registered."  
  
"Of course I won't," he assured her, looking straight into her eyes. "There is something I would ask, however, although your answer will not change my decision to protect you."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Could you teach me?"  
  
Brynne faltered, she hadn't been expecting this. "Maybe. But it would require your full attention. I would require at least four hours of each day starting tonight until I think you've completed the necessary training. It may take as long as a month. Are you prepared to surrender that much time to this?"  
  
"Were you going to come to an actual catch at some point? I've nothing better to do," he stated, wearing a sly smile as he tried to keep up with her as she stalked quickly down the hall.  
  
"Alright then, tonight. Your room. After dinner. HA! We made it!" she said triumphantly. Draco looked at her, startled, until he realized they were standing outside McGonagall's classroom.  
  
Brynne walked in, noting they were the last to arrive. But as long as they weren't late, she couldn't care less. She took the last empty desk in the back, and Draco sat beside her, just as McGonagall stepped into the room, looking remarkably cat-like.  
  
"Alright class," she said after shifting almost instantaneously back into her human shape, "today we'll be transfiguring books into pillows."  
  
Brynne rolled her eyes. This should be her favorite class, considering what she was, but it was just too easy. Once you mastered transfiguring yourself, everything else just seemed pretty pathetic in comparison.  
  
She felt eyes upon her and looked up to see a pair of green eyes that were a rival to her own in their brilliance. They were presumably trying to catch her attention. She narrowed her own emerald eyes and glanced at Draco. He hadn't noticed. Good. She looked back at Potter, who was still focused on her, fixing him with her most malevolent glare. "What do you want?" she mouthed silently.  
  
"We want to talk to you," he mouthed back.  
  
She shook her head. "Just you," she replied. He didn't question why and she didn't explain. He just nodded and turned back to his friends. She absolutely refused to have anything resembling a civilized conversation with Granger. Granted, she had never had any kind of conversation with the Gryffindor, but that was beside the point. But she couldn't talk to Weasley either. Not if it was Draco they wanted to discuss. Talking to Potter would be a huge betrayal as it was, but to tell Weasley anything would be much worse. So it would be Potter, and only Potter. But how to arrange a meeting without having to lie to Draco? This could be a problem. 


	12. Ch 12 Consorting with the Enemy

Ch. 12 Consorting with the Enemy  
  
She needn't have worried. It seemed Potter and company had everything all planned out. When they were released from Transfiguration (which Brynne had found insanely easy as usual), Brynne collected her books into her bag. Draco had then lifted her bag to his shoulder and offered his arm. She had grinned at him and taken it.  
  
But then, as they had left the room they had seen the Three Musketeers standing in the middle of the hallway, standing in a wide circle talking, and effectively blocking their way. "Um, excuse me," Brynne said, catching Potter's eye. If they had a plan, here was their chance to spring it.  
  
"Hello Malfoy," Weasley said snidely.  
  
Draco ignored him, focusing on Potter. "I'm fairly certain that I heard her politely ask you to move."  
  
"Since when have you cared about little things like manners, Malfoy? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were whipped!" Weasley exclaimed gleefully.  
  
Draco made a low growl and turned to face the taller redhead, stepping forward menacingly. He dropped Brynne's arm and her bag. Granger stepped in to try to prevent the unavoidable clash. Brynne stepped quietly to Potter's side. "When?" she asked, not looking at him.  
  
"Tonight, after dinner," he replied, watching Hermione soothe Ron as Malfoy egged him on, now fully wanting to fight.  
  
"Can't," she said. He glanced at her quickly. "I'll explain later. How about midnight? Can you sneak out and meet me in the dungeons? Do you know where the entrance to the Slytherin common room is?"  
  
"Yes to all three," Potter replied. "We better step in before these two kill each other," he said, glancing at her sidelong with his typical grin on his face. With that, they parted and each took to soothing the combatants who, at this point, had only thrown words and not punches.  
  
Brynne only managed to pull Draco away by, under the pretenses of whispering to him, running her tongue along the edge of his ear. He shuddered visibly, but allowed her to lead him away. He stooped to pick up Brynne's bag and shouldered it. Then, he turned back to the Three Stooges and, noting how close in color Weasley's face and hair were, smirked at them patronizingly. Before they could respond, however, he had taken Brynne's hand and had headed for the dungeons.  
  
The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. Draco, ever the aristocrat, completely ignored the glares he was receiving from Weasley, Goyle, and Pansy. Brynne had taken to calling them "Avada Kedavra" looks in her head, because if looks could kill, then surely Draco would have exploded.  
  
Unfortunately, Brynne's schedule was so hectic, they had not had any time to talk. Draco had wanted to discuss what had happened with Brynne the night before. He approached her before dinner, but Brynne absolutely refused to be late, so it would have to wait.  
  
Brynne hadn't wanted a repeat performance of her "anxiety attack", so when Draco had wanted to talk to her five minutes before dinner, she had refused, telling him it could wait until they got there. She had not been pleased at the prospect if walking into the Great Hall late, and having all their eyes on her. Brynne was quite relieved when only one or two faces turned their way when she and Draco arrived. Draco, instead of taking the place of honor at the center of the table, had led her to the end of the table closest to the professor's table. Once people realized there would be no drama from that area of the room, they eventually stopped glancing their way. Even Goyle and Weasley stopped glaring.  
  
But Brynne could feel one pair of eyes following her every move. She looked up and, noticing the perplexed look in Potter's bright green eyes, idly reflected on what he could possibly want to talk to her about. She hadn't even realized she was frowning until she felt Draco reach across the table and smooth out her eyebrows. She smiled, looking away from Potter quickly. Luckily, Draco couldn't tell whom she had been staring at.  
  
"So are you going to tell me what happened yesterday?" he asked.  
  
"Well, I'm not exactly sure, but I think it has something to do with the fact that I don't like attention. It bothers me to be stared at. So when everyone was just sitting there staring at us, I guess I just panicked."  
  
"Well, if I'd known that you were going to react that way, I wouldn't have done what I did. It only called more attention to us when I moved Goyle and sat in his seat." Draco looked her in the eyes. "The next time you feel that nervous, just tell me, and we'll leave, alright?"  
  
It was a pity he didn't show anyone else this side of himself. He might have had some real friends and not just the phonies who had been using him. It wasn't his fault though. His father had ingrained in Draco at a young age a pride so extreme that it prevented him from consorting with anyone but Slytherins and highborn purebloods. And of these only those his father approved of.  
  
Now there was a truly evil man: Lucius Malfoy. She couldn't imagine growing up with a father like that. Her own father was so caring and affectionate. It had been her father's idea to begin training her to be an animagus. The first time she had seen her mother transfigure, she had begged them to teach her. Now it was the same with Draco.  
  
She wondered what Lucius would think when he found out, as it was inevitable that he would find out. Lucius would probably see it as a threat to his own power. She sneered at the thought.  
  
Draco noticed the change in her facial expression. "What are you thinking?" he asked.  
  
"What do you think your father will think?"  
  
Draco sat back and reflected. Tough question. He never really knew what to expect from his father anymore. "Of what exactly?" he asked, trying to buy himself more time as he thought.  
  
"Of us? Of the fact that you've abandoned the "friends" he chose for you? Of the animagus training?" The last question was whispered.  
  
"Well, let's see," he replied. "You're highborn of a respectable lineage, so he can't have any objection there. I know he won't approve of me forsaking my friends, but he'll have to get over that. I have no idea about the training though, which is why I don't intend to inform him about it. None of the Malfoys has ever been capable of becoming an animagus though, so even with the training, I may not be able to do it."  
  
"Well, that's because none of them ever had an amazing, intelligent, beautiful and talented instructor like you've got," she replied with a smile.  
  
"And her modesty astounds us all," Draco said, leaning across the table to kiss Brynne's hand. 


	13. Ch 13 Scandalous

Ch. 13 Scandalous  
  
"No, for the third time, we cannot skip this part!" Brynne was growing frustrated with him, he could tell. He hadn't known what to expect when he had requested the training, but he knew he hadn't anticipated studying in books. "You need to be well-versed in theory before I will even begin to explain the mechanics of the transfiguration process. But enough bookwork for now, do you have any candles?  
  
"Yeah, I do," he replied, pulling open a drawer. He reached in and extracted several black and green candles. "What do you need them for?"  
  
"Atmosphere," Brynne replied. Draco looked at her quizzically. "Meditation is very important part of transfiguration. To efficiently transform, you must have complete awareness and control over every cell in your body," she explained. Draco looked shocked. "Don't give me that look. If you're devoted, it won't be too difficult." She placed the candles on the floor in a circle large enough for Draco to sit in the middle. She then proceeded around the circle, pointing her wand at each in turn, muttering "Incendio," to light them. "You saw my transformation this morning. About how long would you estimate it took?" she asked.  
  
"Forty seconds to a minute," he replied.  
  
"Exactly. The better at meditation you are, the more quickly you can transfigure," she explained. She glanced at the clock in his room. Quarter to twelve. "For this, you must be alone. What you must do is sit in the middle of the circle and clear your mind. Then go through your body, starting with your toes, and flex and relax each and every muscle. Then the rest of the time you focus on your breathing and heartbeat. This may be difficult your first time, but try to regulate them. I will be back in an hour or two to discuss what you have accomplished." She kissed his jaw quickly and left, locking the door and placing a silencing spell to block any noises from penetrating. No distractions.  
  
.For Draco anyways. Brynne found her mind could not focus on any one topic for more than a minute at a time. Why was she doing this? She would surely lose Draco if he ever found out she was sneaking around to consort with Potter. The kicker was the fact that she didn't even like Potter! And yet she was intrigued. What could Potter, who hardly even knew her, want to talk to her about? Where did his interests lie?  
  
Brynne made her way slowly back to her room. Opening the door, she realized no one was there. 'Probably off in the boys' dorms,' she thought. 'Where I should be.' But no, here she was, selecting her largest black cloak from her trunk. She swirled it about her and fastened it at her neck. Then, checking that her wand was tucked in her robes and that Mordechai was secure around her arm, Brynne pulled her hood over her head and face and left the room. She walked quickly down the stairs and through the common room with her head down, scarcely looking right or left. She then opened the trapdoor and exited.  
  
Brynne walked a few feet from the entrance into the shadows of the hallway. She then sat down on the stone floor against the wall and waited, head bent and eyes closed.  
  
She heard him before she saw him. Potter certainly hadn't noticed her; he would have said something by now. "I can't see you, but I know you're there," she said, looking up to see him remove the invisibility cloak he had been wearing. "I can avoid being seen if I wish, but to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift." She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Come over here and cover both of us with that. I do not wish to be seen with you." Potter complied quickly and silently, sitting so close to her she could smell the sweet scent of pumpkin juice on his breath. "Now what was it you wanted, Potter?" she asked, noting his flinch as she spit out his surname.  
  
"I think we've started out on the wrong foot," he began. "And without being properly introduced. I'm Harry Potter, though you already knew that. I've only heard rumours of who you are."  
  
"Brynne Dharielle," she replied. "And yes, of course I know who you are. Everyone knows famous Harry Potter."  
  
Potter was obviously shocked by her animosity towards him. "Look, I don't know what Malfoy told you, but-" Brynne didn't let him finish.  
  
"Draco has told me nothing I didn't already know. My opinions are my own, and are not easily changed." Brynne didn't know what had come over her. She didn't usually have such a temperamental attitude. She supposed it was a defense mechanism. If news of her meeting with Potter ever reached Draco's ears, she wanted it known she hadn't been civil. She noticed the crestfallen expression on Potter's face and instantly regretted her words, although she knew she couldn't take them back. "Any more questions?" she asked in a slightly gentler voice.  
  
"Why did you not want Hermione and Ron here?"  
  
She snorted. "Although I have never spoken to Granger, there is an element of competition between us that has made me despise her." She saw Potter's eyebrows rise as she continued. "I would be top of our year if it weren't for her. And as for Weasley, if it is at all possible, I believe Draco hates him even more than you. It would be a much greater betrayal to Draco if the redheaded wonder were here."  
  
"I understand," he replied. It was then that Potter noticed something that stirred within him a recognition of something he knew he had seen before. He frowned and tried to place it as Brynne hastily tucked her braid into her cloak and waited for Potter to ask her something else.  
  
"Of course!" he exclaimed, remembering the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor Quidditch match he had played two weeks ago, as Brynne clapped a hand over his mouth, shushing him.  
  
"Do you want us to get caught?" she demanded angrily. "What the hell was that about?"  
  
"I know you," he said slowly, with an almost accusatory tone. "You're that really vicious Slytherin Beater everyone calls 'Bry'."  
  
"What makes you think so?" Brynne asked noncommittally.  
  
"Your hair is always slipping out of your hood, but as a Seeker I must be the only one with the eyes sharp enough to notice."  
  
Brynne panicked. "You can't tell anyone! I don't want any attention. If people found out Bry's identity, there would be a scandal, and everyone would be watching me!" She grabbed the sides of his head, forcing him to look at her. "Please," she begged, "don't tell anyone."  
  
"Are you telling me that no one knows?" he asked slowly. "Not even your Captain and boyfriend?" She shook her head. "Alright," he agreed. "You have my word that I will not tell a soul."  
  
Brynne let escape a sigh of relief. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask?" she asked resignedly, looking at her watch. "You have fifteen minutes."  
  
"I basically wanted to know what you could possibly see in someone like Malfoy," he stated.  
  
Brynne thought she heard a twinge of jealousy, but since she couldn't be sure, she wasn't about to call him out on it and potentially embarrass herself if she was wrong. "You obviously don't know me as well as you presume to," she said flatly. "I am someone like Draco, and I don't think I like what you are insinuating. I suggest that you think very carefully about your next words before you speak them."  
  
"I don't mean to offend you. I am only trying to warn you about what kind of person you're getting involved with. Draco Malfoy is sneaky, arrogant, and underhanded, and-"  
  
"And I think you've forgotten who I am," she countered, throwing off the invisibility cloak. "You think you know, but you have no idea who I am, or even who Draco is. You believe you know him from seeing only one side of him. Don't you dare make that mistake with me. I may look innocent and non- threatening, but looks aren't everything. Never forget, I am a Slytherin. A Gryffindor like you could never understand that." Brynne watched as a melancholy look descended into his eyes. "I have to go now. You were never here. We never spoke."  
  
Brynne turned to leave, but Potter caught her left wrist. "Let go," she said in a low voice.  
  
"Don't go away angry," he said in a pleading voice. "I didn't mean to upset you."  
  
"You have not even scratched the surface of the depths of my wrath. And I recommend you release me, before you upset him," she answered as she felt Mordechai begin to slide down her arm.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You'll find out, if you don't let go," she said calmly. She pulled her wrist free just as Mordechai's head protruded from her sleeve, eyes flashing and nostrils flared angrily. "It's alright Mordechai," she soothed in Parseltongue as she gently placed him back around her bicep.  
  
"You're a Parselmouth?" Potter asked in disbelief.  
  
"Yes," she replied nonchalantly.  
  
"I thought I was the only one here."  
  
"Well, some of us don't like the popularity certain talents might afford us, so therefore we are better at keeping them a secret."  
  
"Were you born with it?" he asked.  
  
"Yes. I come from a long line of Parselmouths. But anyways, your fifteen minutes are up, and I have to go before I'm missed." She stepped away and towards the trapdoor, waiting for him to leave before she said the passphrase.  
  
"Meet me tomorrow," he said.  
  
"I can't. It's too dangerous for me. And even if I could, what makes you think I would want to?"  
  
"Meet me tomorrow, or I won't leave."  
  
She turned and glared at him. He stared back defiantly, the determination present in his emerald eyes. "Fine," she said, her voice dripping with venomous frustration. "Same time, same place. Now go!" she demanded.  
  
He pulled on the invisibility cloak quickly, but not before Brynne saw the corners of his mouth curl into a smirk. She listened as his footsteps echoed down the corridor, still fuming. He must have turned the corner, because the sound became more distant.  
  
Brynne faced the wall and muttered the passphrase in a low voice, in case Potter was somehow still around. She stepped through and walked quickly back to her room to remove the cloak. She deposited Mordechai in his tank and then returned to Draco's door. She muttered, "Finite incantatum," ending the silencing spell as well as unlocking the door. As she went about checking on Draco and his progress, she couldn't stop thinking about that prat Potter and what he had said to her. She just hoped that Draco hadn't noticed the faraway look in her eyes. 


	14. Ch 14 Alliance

Ch. 14 Alliance  
  
Draco awoke the next morning to the feel of something soft and furry shifting against his neck. He opened one eye and was shocked to see a black- streaked red ball of fur huddled beside him. He sat up carefully, so as not to disturb the sleeping fox and shook his head to rid himself of his sleep- induced stupor. Memories of last night came flooding back.  
  
Draco's meditation had gone exceedingly well, and Brynne had told him, after hearing the details, that the training would probably take less time than she had originally suspected. Draco figured that they had been sitting on his bed, Brynne discussing what her training had been like, when they had fallen asleep. Draco glanced again at the ball of fluff nestled in his blankets. He had yet for an explanation of this. He ran his fingers lightly over her fur. He couldn't recall her transfiguring into Scorch.  
  
Draco gently lifted the fox into his arms and marveled at the fine texture of her coat. She woke at being moved, baring her teeth in a yawn as she stretched against his chest. Then, realizing what she was, she extracted herself from Draco's arms and transfigured back into her human form.  
  
"That happens sometimes. I'll have dreams in which I transfigure, and I actually will. Hmmm." she muttered, seeing her surroundings for the first time. "I don't recall falling asleep in here, but I must have. Morning, lovely!" she said, kissing his cheek. "Well," she commented, glancing at her watch. "We're up in time for breakfast, if you'd like to join me."  
  
"OK." Draco replied, sounding a bit dumbstruck.  
  
"Great. I'll be back in twenty minutes. Get a shower and some clean clothes." With that, she dashed from the room. Draco's mouth was hanging open. Brynne had been awake for less than five minutes, and already she was acting as though she had had several cups of coffee.  
  
Draco yawned and got out of bed. He stripped and, clad only in a towel that clung dangerously low on his hips, stalked into his bathroom. He splashed some cold water from the sink on his face and then turned on the shower, as hot as he could stand it. The towel was so loose it dropped to his ankles as he stepped towards the shower. He shrugged and stepped in, under the steaming spray.  
  
He showered quickly and, turning off the water, idly picked the towel from the floor and wrapped it around his slender body. He left the bathroom on a quest to find clean clothes. He pulled open his closet, examining its contents carefully. Draco finally selected a pair of black slacks, a white shirt, and a forest green vest. He snatched a pair of boxers and a tie from a drawer. He dressed quickly, gazing at himself in the mirror. No could say he didn't have impeccable taste.  
  
Draco was just putting on shoes when Brynne sashayed through his door. She frowned. "You're not ready yet?" Noticing his hair, which was distinctly floppy and un-styled, she grinned. "As such, your punishment shall be to go to breakfast before fixing your hair!" she exclaimed gleefully.  
  
"No," he said simply, picking up his wand and comb and deftly smoothing his hair back.  
  
"Spoiled prat!" she cried, pouncing on him, trying to muss his hair.  
  
Draco dodged gracefully and, straightening, asked, "Are we going to go eat or not?" with a superior smile on his face.  
  
Brynne pouted. "Fine," she replied. Draco laughed at her show of indignation.  
  
"Oh come on!" he cried, "You're not that upset!"  
  
Her face broke into a smile. "No, I'm not. Now let's go meet Blair." She led him, their fingers intertwined, to the Great Hall.  
  
As Brynne led him through the large doors, Draco stopped in shock. The room was almost empty, save for a group of Gryffindors, which unfortunately included the Three Stooges, a few Hufflepuffs, and a lone Ravenclaw, the one they intended to sit with. 'But surely we aren't going to sit at the Ravenclaw table,' Draco thought to himself as he was led over to the small dark-haired girl.  
  
"Good morning," she greeted them, not looking up from the parchment she was writing on frantically. "Pardon me, if I am not as polite and talkative as usual, but I had to rewrite my Potions essay. I just wasn't happy with it."  
  
"But I told you it was fine," Brynne said. She had been expecting this. No matter how good Blair's essays were, she always rewrote them, especially assignments for Potions.  
  
"Mind if I read it?" Draco asked, sitting beside her.  
  
Blair looked at him, shock playing over her delicate features, as well as a hint of apprehension. "Um, sure, if you want to," she answered finally, handing him her parchment. She watched him anxiously as his eyes flickered over her small concise writing.  
  
"This is really very good," he said thoughtfully, looking at her intently.  
  
"Really?" Blair asked.  
  
"Yes. Compliments rarely come from my lips, you know," he replied smirking. He then looked back at her parchment. "Although, this part about the belladonna." he began, trailing off as he and Blair began poring over the essay.  
  
Brynne looked on with amusement, taking a seat across from Blair as she summoned a house-elf. "Can I have a mocha and some scrambled eggs?" she asked, still watching the two opposite her. They were in deep conversation over how to extract arsenic form apples. The elf scurried away as Brynne continued to survey them.  
  
Suddenly, she felt the distinct sensation of eyes, boring into the back of her head, and knew immediately to whom she could attribute this most unpleasant feeling. She turned and glared at Potter, her eyes turning into green ice. Then, to her abject horror, Potter winked at her, eyes sparkling gleefully. Was this a game to him? 'Torture the Slytherin'? If so, he was very good, but she would win. She turned just as a huge plate of fluffy yellow eggs and an oversized mug of mocha were set before her. Straining for dignity, Brynne struggled not to seize the cup of steaming caffeinated goodness and drain it in one gulp. Looking very composed, she carefully took the mug in her hands, sipping it slowly, relishing the rich, chocolatey flavour.  
  
Brynne looked up from her mocha as she heard the door to the Great Hall swing open. She turned, wondering whom it could be. The usual breakfast crew was already here, and with one extra. She saw Blaise Zabini step confidently through the doorway and then falter almost imperceptibly when he realized there was no one at the Slytherin table. His eyes scanned the rest of the room, his gaze falling on the trio sitting at the Ravenclaw table.  
  
She watched as the tall brunette sauntered across the room towards them. Brynne was usually a decent judge of character, but she didn't know what to make of Zabini. As he approached their part of the table, she examined his hazel eyes, trying to discover his motives, but she couldn't.  
  
He came up beside her. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked in a smooth, casual voice. Blair and Draco looked up quickly, noticing Zabini for the first time.  
  
Brynne glanced at her companions quickly, judging their dispositions. They both had confusion in their faces, but had nothing in their expressions to indicate that they did not approve. Turning back to Zabini, she replied, "Sure," and scooted over slightly on the bench. They were all silent as Zabini requested Belgian waffles and orange juice from the house-elf that materialized beside him.  
  
"Well," he said turning back to them and flashing a smile. Don't let me put a damper on your conversation."  
  
"We were just talking about the Potions essay," said Draco, glancing sidelong at Blair. "What did you think of it, Zabini?"  
  
His eyes lit up. "Personally, I find the topic of poisons fascinating. I must have written six inches more than was required. And," he added, leveling eyes with each of them in turn, "if you don't mind me using your first names, you can call me Blaise. But, if memory serves, I don't think we've been introduced. Blaise Zabini. Blaise to my friends, Zabini to most people."  
  
"Blair Richelieu," replied the girl to whom he had been speaking, offering her hand. She reddened slightly, but not unpleasantly, when he kissed it instead of shaking.  
  
"Pleased to meet you, Blair." He looked down at her work and glanced back up at her, with an alarmed expression on his face. "You aren't just beginning work on that essay?" he asked. "It's due today, and Snape has mercy only on Slytherins."  
  
"No," she answered, handing him the copy she and Draco had been scrutinizing. "This is my rewrite. That is my initial draft."  
  
Blaise took the scroll and scanned the page. "This is excellent. You have no need for revision. And I really like how you included hemlock. I would never have thought of it."  
  
Blair searched his face for traces of insincerity and found none. "You really don't think I need to write it over?"  
  
"No," he replied, "you don't. By the way, are you any good at Arithmancy?" he asked. "I could really use a tutor."  
  
Brynne smiled as Blair nodded. It seemed her friend was becoming more sociable. And with a boy as charming and handsome as Blaise Zabini, Brynne could hardly complain. "Well, it seems that Draco and I have to go back to the dormitories to get our things before Potions. But since you both appear to have your books, you're welcome to stay here and get better acquainted," she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively at Blair, who blushed furiously in response. "Ta-ta!"  
  
"What was that about?" asked Draco outside the Great Hall.  
  
"Well, it was quite obvious that they were interested in each other," Brynne replied grinning. "Honestly! Sometimes you are oblivious!" she exclaimed, pulling him down the corridor to the dungeons.  
  
"Did you ever think that maybe you're just intuitive?" he shot back defensively.  
  
"Yes, but still, even you should have gotten that one!"  
  
"Fine, whatever."  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
He was staring again. Did he not realize the danger that he was putting her in, or was that simply part of the game? She looked desperately to Snape for help, glancing frantically at Potter, whose eyes never left her.  
  
Professor Snape looked at her, and seemed to understand the cause of her anxiety. He nodded slightly and turned frowning to Potter. "Mr. Potter," he said sharply. "Perhaps you would like to tell me the properties of the herb I was just discussing?" At this point, Granger's hand shot up, as usual, and Potter shook his head. "Then perhaps you would like to inform the class as to what is so interesting about Mr. Malfoy that you found it necessary to he staring in his direction so intently that you were not paying attention to my lecture?" Brynne watched as both Draco's and Potter's eyes bulged; Draco's with restrained laughter and Potter's with humiliation. Potter shook his head again. "Thirty points from Gryffindor," Snape said carelessly. "Ten for not paying attention, and twenty for not answering my questions."  
  
The Gryffindors groaned, Weasley loudest of all, as the Slytherins snickered. Only two students were silent. They were scowling at each other, each daring the other to be the first to look away. Finally, Potter won, as Brynne looked away and started talking to Draco without so much as a backwards glance.  
  
Brynne watched Potter out of the corner of her eye as he stared at her for a few confused seconds before turning his attention back to his neglected notes. "So, we're starting an arsenic draught today?" she directed to Draco.  
  
"Yeah," he replied. "It looks fairly simple."  
  
"Alright," Snape addressed the class. "If that has been quite enough for the interruptions, you have permission to begin brewing you potions. As I circulate to examine your work, I will collect your essays. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter had better have theirs."  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
Another successful Potions class ended, Brynne, Draco and Blaise headed to the Great Hall for lunch. Blaise waved at Blair and sat with Brynne and Draco at the end of the Slytherin table. Draco watched as a barn owl dropped a bundle of letters in Blaise's direction. Then he saw a much smaller bird swooping down towards him. His father's peregrine falcon landed on his shoulder, digging its talons into his flesh as it proffered its leg. "Thanks," he muttered, taking the letter from the pouch on the bird's leg. As soon as Draco had the letter, the raptor took flight. 'That bird is as cold as my father,' Draco thought to himself, gazing at the small elegant writing of the letter sullenly. There was no reason for contact from his father, so this could only be an indication that he had heard about what Draco had done and was reprimanding him. His father was not so uncouth as to use a howler.  
  
Draco opened the envelope carefully and pulled the parchment from it with a flourish.  
  
Draco,  
  
To my dismay, I received a letter from you acquaintance Gregory Goyle yesterday. He informed me of the unpleasantness. I advise against this lapse in judgment. You need powerful allies, and the ones I have chosen are more than suitable. There was also mention of a girl. Mr. Goyle seemed to disapprove and thought she had cursed you. I doubted this, knowing first-hand of your resistance to them. Nonetheless, I would like to know the name of this girl, since Mr. Goyle neglected to mention it. And furthermore, rectify this situation immediately. ~Lucius Malfoy  
  
Draco snorted. He had been expecting something like this, but shorter, more direct, and, well, angrier. He knew his father must be furious. He could tell from the impersonal signature. Lucius usually ended letters to Draco by signing "Your Father". But Lucius must have been thoroughly incensed.  
  
"Your father?" Brynne asked, jarring him from his thoughts. He nodded. "And he's angry," she added solemnly. It wasn't a question. It was a death certificate.  
  
"Yes. It seems Goyle informed him. Probably embellishing upon the facts."  
  
Blaise looked from Brynne to Draco. "Am I missing something here?"  
  
Draco looked up sharply. "Have you not heard? Why, with all the rumours floating around, I'm quite shocked you don't know!"  
  
"Oh, I've heard the rumours. I just don't put any weight in things unless I hear it firsthand. So, are you saying there is actually truth in the rumour that you are currently forsaken and friendless, excepting your girlfriend, her best friend, and me?"  
  
"Actually," Draco replied, "most of that is the truth, except that it was I who forsook my friends, but do my ears deceive me, or did you just say you consider me a friend? What have I ever done that would make you see me as a good friend?" asked Draco incredulously.  
  
"Nothing really, except that by abandoning them, you have shown that you are looking for something better. And also, by befriending people like Brynne and Blair, who are most definitely good people, you have shown that you are not like your former friends." Blaise was met with a skeptical look. "I know what you're thinking. You believe I mean to use you. I assure you, it isn't so. I have no reason to. I do not need your position, nor do I want it. I merely see you as a kindred spirit." He held out his hand. "Do you agree?"  
  
"I do," replied Draco after a minute, taking the other boy's hand. "Anyways," he continued, glancing down at the letter disdainfully, "this is just a token of my father's annoyance. It appears he means to change the course of action I have taken, since it does not correspond with his own plans for me. Also seems to want to assure that the girl I'm seeing is worthy to be seen in the company of a Malfoy, let alone be made one." Draco blushed slightly at this, but Brynne smiled widely.  
  
"A fine predicament you've gotten yourself into. I've heard from my father what happens when the great Lord Malfoy doesn't get his way," Blaise said with a smirk.  
  
"Not something to joke about," Draco said seriously. "I'm not looking forward to responding to this. Has to be worded very carefully, to be sure. On that note, I think I'm going to leave you and see it done. I'll meet you in Arithmancy. I believe we have it with the Ravenclaws," he said winking at Blaise, who reddened slightly before winking back. As Draco got up to leave, he felt light pressure on his hand as Brynne squeezed it comfortingly. She looked up at him searchingly. "I'll be fine," he whispered loud enough so that only she could hear. "Everything will work out." With that, he gave her a peck on the cheek and left the room. 


	15. Ch 15 Uncertainty

Ch. 15 Uncertainty  
  
As Draco headed down the corridor to the dungeons and his common room, he reread his father's letter, silently cursing. He crushed the leaf of parchment in his fist, wishing he could be sure that everything would work out. With the events of last year and the Dark Lord's return, he couldn't have chosen a worse time to rebel against his father. Lucius was already pressuring Draco to present himself in unswerving loyalty to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Draco liked to act sinister and evil, but deep down he knew he was all talk. He would gloat to Potter about the growing power of Voldemort and the Death Eaters whenever he got the chance, but he didn't actually want them to succeed in killing Potter. Draco really wanted nothing more than for Potter to finish them off, so that he could drop the charade. He by no means liked potter, he just didn't hate him as much as he seemed to. It was merely jealousy. Lucius Malfoy paid more attention to Potter than he did his own son.  
  
Draco snarled. Except when it came to upholding the family "honour". Lucius wanted to prevent anything from occurring that would make him look bad in Lord Voldemort's eyes, and this would make him look bad. His son denouncing the son of fellow Death Eaters? Not the great Lord Malfoy.  
  
Draco was at a loss. He had no idea what he was going to tell his father. The truth seemed a bit too blunt. If Lucius found out that it had ultimately been Brynne that had convinced Draco to abandon Crabbe and Goyle and the rest, then he surely wouldn't look favourably on their relationship. Draco stopped at the trapdoor and said the passphrase without it really registering where he was. He passed through the corridors, his silver eyes never focusing on his surroundings. When he sat down in the plush armchair, still thinking about his father, Draco was a little surprised that he was already in his room. He looked around for a few moments, wondering he had gotten there before deciding that there were more important matters to think about and forcing the trivial thoughts aside.  
  
Draco got up abruptly and crossed to his smooth, dark mahogany desk and sat heavily in the accompanying chair. He plucked a rust-coloured, hawk-feather quill from his collection and twirled it thoughtfully in his fingers. Then, reaching for a leaf of parchment, he decided what he was going to say. He dipped his quill into a pot of silver ink and began to write his letter.  
  
Father, The girl's name is Brynne Dharielle. She is a Slytherin and a pureblood of respectable lineage. As for the problem with Goyle, he brought it upon himself. He insulted Miss Dharielle and, in so doing, me. This is unforgivable, as I'm sure you will agree. In your last letter, you mentioned the necessity of powerful allies. I couldn't agree more. However, the individuals you have selected have proven less than adequate, which has forced me to seek more reliable alternatives elsewhere. I have found three so far that meet my standards as well as those you've set for me. The aforementioned Miss Dharielle is one, and Blaise Zabini, to whom I believe you have already been introduced, and Blair Richelieu, another pureblood, are the others. In the next several weeks, I will be looking for others worthy to align myself with. Your disapproval is duly noted. ~Draco L. Malfoy  
  
Draco sat back triumphantly and grinned at his handiwork. He had succeeded in trapping his father. He hadn't expected it to be so simple, but Lucius had left himself wide open, really. There was very little he could argue. Draco had agreed with him for Merlin's sake! No one could dispute the fact that Crabbe and Goyle were idiots, or that just about anyone would be a suitable replacement.  
  
Draco looked over to the cage containing his eagle owl. 'Such a beautiful animal,' he thought, gazing at it fondly. He could never bear to see his owl sent to the owlery with all the common school owls. He got up and opened the cage, extending his arm. The owl looked at him quizzically, but then perched on his arm all the same. After Draco had extracted the gold- plumed bird from its cage, he stood beside his desk scratching the owl's ear tufts, thinking hard. 'He really should have a name as well,' he thought to himself. 'But what to call him?'  
  
His mind was drawn to Divination last year. The fourth-year's curriculum covered star charts and basic knowledge of the constellations as well as Astrology. After studying the constellations a while, he had realized most of them derived their names from Greek and Roman mythology. He had gone to the library a lot after that, reading up on some of the stories. He had found them fascinating.  
  
"Apollo," he murmured. The golden sun god who flew a chariot pulled by winged horses. He glanced at the owl. The golden part was right. "Do you like that?" he asked it. The owl hooted softly and hopped up to Draco's shoulder and nipped his ear affectionately, if a little hesitantly. Draco laughed. "Apollo it is. I've got a job for you." He picked up the parchment and rolled it up. Apollo held out his left leg, which carried a dragon-hide pouch. Draco put the letter into the pouch and said, "Take this to my father and leave straight away. Don't wait for a reply. I expect he will be quite angry with what I've written." He pushed the window beside the desk open wide and Apollo took flight, soaring majestically towards the Quidditch pitch and out of sight.  
  
Draco gazed at the pitch a few seconds longer, before his eyes traveled up to the deep blue of the cloudless sky. The weather was flawless. "A perfect day to schedule an extra practice for the Quidditch team," he mused. It would have to be during the afternoon break they received before dinner. Two hours would suffice.  
  
Draco reached into his desk and retrieved several more sheets of parchment. He took up his quill and dipped it again into his silver ink well. He chewed the feather thoughtfully for a few seconds before deciding what to put down.  
  
Attention: The Slytherin Quidditch team will have a mandatory practice at the pitch at 4:00 PM today. Warning, attendance is mandatory. ~D. L. Malfoy  
  
He then made three more copies of the message. These would be posted on the Seventh- Sixth- and Fifth-year boy's dorms. Two of his Chasers, Montague and Warrington, were Seventh-years, the other Chaser and his Keeper, Rosenbaum and St. Paul, were Sixth-years, and one of his Beaters was none other than Blaise, a fellow Fifth-year. As for his other Beater, well, he was a mystery. He called himself Bry. He was probably a Third- or Fourth- year, judging from height, but no one was really sure. Not that Draco really cared about name or age of his players. All he was concerned about was ability. If Bry wanted to keep his identity to himself (and indeed it seemed as such; the boy never talked or removed his hood), then it was just as well really, as long as his performance on the pitch never faltered.  
  
As a matter of fact, Draco could not think of a time when Bry had missed his target. He may not have been very strong, but his aim was impeccable, with the most skillful Backbeat Draco had ever witnessed. So that while most of the time, Bry's Bludgers did little more than throw the opposing team off their courses, there was no doubt in any player's mind that if it was Bry's bat that hit the Bludger, the person it was aimed at better be dodging.  
  
Draco glanced at the clock on his desk. Quarter to one. He had Arithmancy in fifteen minutes, and here he was, obsessing about Quidditch strategies. It hadn't turned out to be a total waste of time, however. He had actually remembered something he had been meaning to teach his Beaters.but he would think about that at practice this afternoon. Now he had to get to class.  
  
He grabbed the announcements and put them into his pocket. Then he shoved the books for Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures, the class he had after, into his book bag, as well as some parchment, a bottle of black ink, and a quill. He shouldered the bag and strode out of the room, closing the door firmly. He turned and pulled one of the sheets from his pocket and some Spellotape from his bag. He taped the announcement to his door. Draco then moved down the corridor in this fashion, putting the slips of parchment on the appropriate doors.  
  
Draco glanced at his watch as he stowed the Spellotape in his bag. He had ten minutes before he was due in Arithmancy. Plenty of time. Draco climbed several flights of stairs and made his way down a few different corridors before he found himself in front of the Arithmancy classroom.  
  
He stepped in and gazed around the room. Blaise and Blair were already seated together at the front of the room, embroiled in a heated discussion. He smirked, not bothering to get their attention. There was no point in trying; they were too busy with each other at this point to notice him. He looked around for Brynne, but instead his eyes found Pansy and Millicent Bulstrode glaring contemptuously at him. He sneered at the two girls and then his silver-grey eyes searched out Brynne.  
  
They found her at the back of the room, seated by herself with her head resting on her arms. She looked asleep. Draco walked to the back of the room and moved behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently before taking the seat beside her.  
  
"Cinco minutos mas, por favor," she mumbled, not opening her eyes. The Spanish sounded strange with her Irish brogue.  
  
"In five more minutes, it will be Professor Vector waking you instead of me," Draco replied teasingly.  
  
Brynne's eyes shot open revealing emerald pools swirling with confusion. She lifted her head to look Draco full in the face. "I fell asleep in class?" she asked.  
  
"Look around, you tell me. And since when do you know Spanish?"  
  
Brynne grinned sheepishly. "Instead of House-elves, my parents hired a Spanish nanny. But anyways, I guess I didn't get enough sleep last night."  
  
"Nor will you be for quite a while if you maintain the lessons schedule you've set up for us," Draco replied smirking.  
  
Brynne cocked an eyebrow. "Now I understand perfectly. You're worried that you won't be able to keep up and catch up on sleep!"  
  
"Oh really? I am not the one who fell asleep on her desk."  
  
Brynne opened her mouth to respond and then closed it again, deciding it better to remain silent. He had her there. Then a thought occurred to her. "What are you doing after Care of Magical Creatures? We can start on some of the Transfiguration work so we can get more sleep tonight."  
  
"That's not possible," he replied. "I called Quidditch practice for the Slytherin at 4:00 on account of the weather."  
  
Brynne attempted to keep her face neutral. "Oh? Well, maybe I'll come. At the pitch, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Draco replied. "Are you sure you want to? It will be terribly boring for you."  
  
"Really?" she asked thoughtfully. "I didn't think so, but if it does get boring, then you'll just have to make it more interesting for me."  
  
Draco hadn't the faintest idea what she was talking about, but before he could ask her, he noticed Professor Vector had begun to lecture the class. He knew there was no way he could tear Brynne's attention away from her work now, so he took up his quill and began taking notes.  
  
Needless to say, by the end of class Draco had completely forgotten about their previous conversation. In Care of Magical Creatures, they had the most uneventful lesson ever. The class had taken notes on Pixies because the bumbling oaf, Hagrid, had lost the specimens he had captured earlier in the week. (To Draco's relief.he remembered the little beasts from Second- year Defense Against the Darks Arts class with Gilderoy Lockhart. They were almost as horrible as Lockhart's teaching skills.)  
  
As the lesson concluded, Brynne began walking briskly back to the castle. Draco hurried to catch up with her. "Where are you going?" he asked. "I thought you were coming to Quidditch practice."  
  
Brynne looked around, noting that Potter had stopped to watch them. "I am," she replied nonchalantly. "I just need to drop some stuff in my room. Go ahead with out me. I'll be there in ten minutes." That had been only half the truth. She also needed to change into her Quidditch robes. She didn't ever use the change rooms. That would eliminate the whole keeping-a-secret- identity thing. She smiled at Draco's retreating form and turned around to find herself staring at a scarlet and gold crest.  
  
She narrowed her eyes and glared up at Potter. "You're in my way," she stated.  
  
"He doesn't know, does he?" asked Potter, ignoring her comment.  
  
"No," she snapped. "He doesn't. But I'm showing him today, so let me pass," she said, brushing past him.  
  
"And what of the rest of your team?" asked the raven-haired boy, coming up beside her to walk with her.  
  
"They will find out too, obviously!" she shouted.  
  
"What will they think? Even better, what will they do?"  
  
"Nothing. Only the Captain and the Head of House have any say in how the Quidditch team is run."  
  
"What will Malfoy think?" Potter asked in a low voice.  
  
Brynne stopped, mid-step. "I-I don't know," she whispered, and then hurried into the castle. 


	16. Ch 16 A Different Kind of Quidditch Prac...

Ch. 16 A Different Kind of Quidditch Practice  
  
It had been ten minutes, and there was no sign of Brynne. Even worse, Bry was late for practice. Draco hovered a few feet off the ground on his Nimbus 2001 looking at his watch impatiently. His eyes caught sight of a green shape hurtling away from the castle towards the pitch.  
  
Bry did a few quick laps of the pitch and then came to rest before Draco, a few feet higher. "You're late," Draco said sternly.  
  
Bry shrugged and then swooped down, so that the ends of their brooms were practically touching. Draco squinted, trying to see the face under the hood. His face was cloaked in shadow, but Draco fancied he saw something familiar. Then, after a moment of hesitation Bry lowered the hood. Draco was so shocked he nearly fell off his broom.  
  
"Brynne?" he sputtered as he struggled to regain his balance. She nodded grimly, her face almost a grimace it was so twisted with nervousness. Draco noticed out of the corners of his eyes that the other members of his team had closed in on them, observing with interest. "We are going to have to talk about this later," he said to her quietly. "But until then, practice will be run as usual." This last part was said more for the other player's benefit. In all reality, this really didn't change all that much for Draco. He knew his teammates wouldn't see it as a benefit, having a girl on the team. They hadn't had one since the year before Draco joined the team. At least now that he knew, Draco could work on exploiting her strengths to their fullest and developing her weaknesses.  
  
"Now," he barked, rising to a vantage point where he was facing all six players. "This is what we're going to do. For the first half of practice, I will be working with the Beaters on a new technique. Montague, Warrington, and Rosenbaum, you three will be practicing formation work with St. Paul. For the second half of practice the Beaters will be on their own to work out the kinks. I will be taking out one Chaser every twenty minutes, which will not only force the other two to work more efficiently, but it will also help me practice. Is that clear?" They all nodded solemnly. "Alright then, if there's no questions, you four," he said, indicating the Chasers and Keeper, "go and use the right half of the pitch, and we'll work over here. With that, St. Paul, Montague, and Warrington zoomed off to the far side of the field while Rosenbaum sank down to retrieve the Quaffle and then follow.  
  
Draco then turned to Blaise and Brynne. "I have devised the perfect technique to exploit your strengths," he told them. "Or rather, I discovered it. The Dopplebeater Defense. Do either of you recognize the term?" They both shook their heads. "You both hit the Bludger simultaneously for added power. Requires split-second timing, but I believe the two of you are capable. It will play off your strength Blaise, and your accuracy Br-Brynne." Draco had trouble calling her by her true name. He was still rather dumbstruck that his girlfriend had also been the mystery- Beater of his Quidditch team.  
  
Draco picked up and extra Quaffle. "We'll start with this, until you get the hang of the timing involved. There's less risk of bodily harm or permanent injury." With that, Draco rose high into the air, the two Beaters trailing behind. When they reached a proper height, Draco began hurling the Quaffle at them. At first, their timing was sloppy. One would strike before the other, sending the red ball flying in all sorts of haphazard directions. They learned quickly, and it had been only twenty minutes and they were hitting the Quaffle simultaneously nine times out of ten.  
  
When Draco had judges that their timing was adequate, he sank down and retrieved a spare bat, dropping the Quaffle. Then he released a Bludger and hit it to them. They continued in this way, passing the Bludger back and forth between them, until an hour had passed and practice was half over.  
  
With some effort, Draco replaced the Bludger in its box so he could talk to his players. "Blaise and Brynne: I want you to sweep the entire pitch and to play as usual, but try to use the Dopplebeater Defense whenever possible. Aim for everyone. Montague: you will be the first Chaser out. Warrington: you will be second, so when I send in Montague, come to me. Rosenbaum: you're third and the same applies. The two Chasers in will have to double their efforts if they want to score on St. Paul. I want the Chasers to only use the left side of the pitch. I will be covering the whole field, as will the Chaser helping me and the Beaters also will be all over. The Beaters are practicing against us, so be wary of the Bludger. Everyone clear on what they're doing?" They nodded. "Then to it!"  
  
Draco then released the Bludger and everyone zoomed to their positions and began to perform their respective tasks. Montague sat hovering before him. Draco handed him a large bag of golf balls. "I want you to throw these as hard and as far as you can. And keep moving as you throw. Space out your throws with about twenty seconds between. OK?" Montague nodded and they rose up into the air and began to work.  
  
An hour passed and Draco was sweating profusely before he called his team to him. "Good practice," he told them. "I have the distinct feeling that we have a fighting chance against Gryffindor this year. Our next game is against the Gryffindors two Saturdays from now. We will be having at least six more practices before then. Does anyone have any problems with that?" he asked, eyes narrowed. The players remained silent. "Good. You're dismissed." They all turned, all except Brynne heading towards the locker room. "Except you, Brynne. I'd like a word." Blaise looked up sharply, catching Draco's eye. His hazel eyes seemed to say, 'Don't you hurt her.' Draco nodded at Blaise, who then headed to the locker room where the rest of the team had disappeared.  
  
Slowly Brynne turned on her broom and flew to face Draco. Before she could speak, Draco began. "I think I understand why you are so secretive, though I am a little disappointed you didn't think you could tell me. I just want you to know that this doesn't change anything, except maybe my perception of you. Every time I begin to understand you, you just blow me away." He paused, looking at her. "You thought I was going to kick you off the team, didn't you?" She nodded, tears making her eyes glisten brighter than usual. "And lose one of my best players? Put the thought from your mind." He flew up next to her and drew his arm around Brynne's waist. "Why are you crying?" he asked.  
  
"I'm just so relieved," she sobbed into his shoulder.  
  
"You know what this means, don't you?" asked Draco, lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes.  
  
"No," she answered thickly, her shoulders still quavering slightly.  
  
"You can use the locker room since we all know your secret," he said grinning.  
  
Brynne stifled a giggle. "But if you don't mind, I would prefer to keep the alias for games, at least for a while."  
  
"By all means!" Draco exclaimed. "But if you don't mind, I'm going to go get changed. Next practice, you bring your stuff to the locker room. It will help the guys get used to the idea," he added when she attempted to object.  
  
"Fine," she replied, watching him fly to the entrance of the locker room. She turned to fly back to the castle, but just as she did, she saw a dark shape sitting in the stands. When she looked back, to see who it was, the shape was gone. Instantly, she was overcome with worry. 'How much did this person see?' she wondered, 'and how could they use it against me?' Hastily, she pulled her hood over her head and tucked the long rope of braid into her cloak. Then she turned and flew back to the castle as fast as her broom could carry her, with nary a backwards glance. 


	17. Ch 17 Friends

Ch. 17 Friends?  
  
The three Slytherins were huddled at the end of the table, speaking rapidly in hushed voices. The first thing Brynne had told Blaise and Draco at dinner was that her identity may have been compromised. Now they were discussing a list of suspects. Draco and Blaise thought it was Goyle right away, especially after Draco told Blaise about Goyle's threat. Brynne had her own suspicions, however. The shape hadn't been large enough to be Goyle.  
  
Unconsciously her eyes drifted to the Gryffindor table. She saw that Potter was sitting between the Weasley twins, who were talking animatedly at him, gesturing towards her table. 'So, they didn't graduate last year after all,' she thought. 'Oh well, I can't be held responsible for not keeping tabs on Gryffindorks. At least I'll have them to take the fall for me for another year.'  
  
Potter noticed her staring and caught her eye. From the look on his face, she could tell that it had been him. She should have felt violated by his intrusion, or at least been worried, but she felt nothing of the sort. She knew he wouldn't tell anyone. He was a Gryffindor. They had a bloody code of honour. A thought occurred to her.  
  
"What about the other players? Are they going to say anything?"  
  
Blaise shook his head. "Draco here threatened us all with immediate dismissal from the team if we so much as breathed a word of it to anyone," he said grinning.  
  
Draco nodded. "We've got to maintain team secrecy. And also, this could be a very effective weapon if you revealed yourself at a key moment in an important game."  
  
"You're right," she agreed, but then added, "but I hope that it won't be necessary any time soon."  
  
"Don't worry, I'm not going to make you. It was only a suggestion," said Draco reassuringly. Blaise nodded his assent. "I wonder what my father would think of this," he muttered.  
  
"Oh, that reminds me," Blaise remarked. "I wanted to ask you if you figured out how to answer your father's letter."  
  
"Yes, I did," Draco answered nonchalantly. "I told him the truth." Brynne blanched. "Well, not all of it," he added quickly, noting her facial expression. "I told him your name and I explained what Goyle did. I didn't mention your involvement. I also told him that after abandoning my old 'friends', I found some new ones, more suitable ones. I mentioned you, Blaise, and also Blair. Of course, I didn't use the word 'friend'. A true Malfoy, so my father believes, does not have friends, only subordinates."  
  
Brynne and Blaise both frowned at this, but neither was sure what the appropriate response was. An uncomfortable silence followed, which was finally broken by Brynne clearing her throat. Dinner was just about over, signaling that Draco's other lessons were about to begin.  
  
"Oh Draco darling," Brynne said with over-dramatic nauseating sweetness oozing from her voice. "Have you noticed what time it is?" Blaise looked first to Brynne then to Draco, his face the epitome of bewilderment.  
  
Draco smiled apologetically. "Sorry Blaise, we've got plans that unfortunately, you can't be involved in."  
  
"Oh really?" he replied, eyebrows hoisted. "And I wonder what kind of activity you two could possibly be up to tonight that you wouldn't want me involved."  
  
"Not what you're thinking, I assure you," Brynne interjected quickly, turning pink. "At some point we may tell you, but right now, its just too dangerous."  
  
"Now I'm intrigued." he began, but then, noticing the warning look in Draco's face, continued, "but your secret, whatever it is, is safe."  
  
"Good," said Draco, getting up. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we'll see you tomorrow at practice. But maybe you'd like to see what Blair's doing tonight.you could meet at the library and 'study', or maybe even the Astronomy Tower." he called as Brynne dragged him away.  
  
"I can't believe you said that!" Brynne said as soon as they were out of sight, a smile playing across her lips. "Pretty funny though. I don't think Blair knows the Astronomy Tower is for anything besides astronomy."  
  
Draco laughed. "Well, I'm sure Blaise would love to demonstrate its more charming uses."  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
Once they reached Draco's room, Draco locked the door behind them and asked, "What have you got planned for tonight?"  
  
"More of the same," Brynne answered. "A few hours of book study, followed by a few more of meditation." She noted the sullen expression on his face. "I told you this could take a while," she said gently. "Although I've come down on my original figure. I think, with your progress, it will take you two weeks tops. It took me a month and a half."  
  
Draco brightened a bit at this and pulled one of the books open to where they had left off last night. "How old were you?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Twelve," she answered. "I'd been asking my parents ever since I first saw my mother do it. I was about five. They made me wait until I was developed enough magically. Ever since the summer between second and third year, Transfiguration has just come easy. I think McGonagall may suspect something, considering before that, it was my worst subject."  
  
"What are your parents?" asked Draco, looking up from the page he was reading.  
  
"My mother is a peregrine falcon and my father is a black stallion. An odd pairing really, and yet so perfect for each other." Brynne saw that she had touched on a sore subject when she was the look of pain reflected in Draco's stormy silver eyes. "Sorry," she said quietly, moving next to him and resting his head on her shoulder. The two continued their work, the silence only broken by the occasional question from Draco regarding the reading.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
At around a quarter to twelve, Brynne kissed Draco's temple. "I think it's time I left you to meditate," she whispered in his ear.  
  
Draco got up and began to light the candles. They had remained in their positions from last night. "How long tonight?" he asked.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Brynne answered. "I'll come and relieve you when I think you've had enough. Not more than three hours." She walked out the door and shut it before he could respond. She locked the door and cast the silencing spell and hurried to her room.  
  
Brynne threw open her bedroom door, knowing none of her roommates would be there on a Friday night. She crossed the room quickly and pulled Mordechai from his tank, talking to him quietly in order to calm him. She wrapped the copper snake around her bicep and pulled her cloak around her. She glanced at her clock as she fastened the cloak at her neck. Five after. She was late! She pulled the cowl over her face and made her way out of the dormitory and the common room and out into the halls of the dungeon.  
  
"You're late," came a disembodied voice. "I thought you weren't coming." Brynne started and whipped around, recognizing the voice immediately. She rushed towards the source of the voice and in a flash she yanked the invisibility cloak off of a very shocked Harry Potter.  
  
"Follow me," she said simply, leading Potter to an empty classroom. "So what were you wanting?"  
  
"I just want to talk to you. Especially about Parseltongue. I've never been able to talk to any other Parselmouths."  
  
"I will only agree to talk to you as long as I don't have to hear anything negative about Draco. The minute you insult him is the instant I stop being civil."  
  
"I can agree to that," Potter replied.  
  
"So what do you want to know?"  
  
"I was wondering: are all the members of your family Parselmouths?"  
  
"You see this pendant?" she asked, pulling the snake-eye necklace from within her robes. "This is a symbol that I come from a long line of Parselmouths. Generally speaking, all of my relatives that were born Dharielles and didn't marry into our family are Parselmouths. For some reason, instead of fading, the talent remained strong throughout our lineage. Funny thing is, no one in the family really knows where it originated."  
  
Potter gazed at the emerald pendant. "So everyone in your family that is a Parselmouth has one of those?"  
  
"Yes, but only highborn wizard families know of its significance, which is how I've been able to keep the secret so well. As a matter of fact, Draco's the only one who noticed. But what about you? Where did you get the ability from? Were any of your family Parselmouths?"  
  
Potter grimaced. "Only a few people know this. You won't say anything?" he asked.  
  
"You're already keeping several secrets for me. I'm obliged to keep yours. But even more, despite being a Slytherin, I carry myself by the Dharielle code of honour. I don't break promises and I don't tell secrets."  
  
Potter looked impressed. "Well, when Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby, Dumbledore believes that he transferred some of his powers to me. By all rights, I should be a Slytherin, if I hadn't asked the Sorting Hat to place me anywhere but."  
  
Brynne sucked in a breath. How horrible! To get such a rare and remarkable talent from the very wizard who killed your parents and tried to send you with them. Potter must feel terrible. She felt a twinge of sympathy. She never thought Potter might have to hide something. He must have been uncomfortable with her silence, because he promptly changed the subject.  
  
"So Malfoy knows you play Quidditch." She gave him a warning look and he raised his hands to signify that he meant nothing by it.  
  
"Yes, and you know damn well he does. I saw you there, and you know I know it was you."  
  
"And? What's your proof?" Her jaw worked soundlessly for a few seconds before he continued. "How did he react?"  
  
"He was shocked, impressed, a bit disappointed I hadn't told him before. How would you have reacted?" she asked angrily.  
  
He ignored her question. "But you were worried."  
  
"Of course!" she nearly shouted, forgetting where she was. "Draco is different from most people. He reacts to things differently. I wasn't sure how he would react." she said more quietly.  
  
"You know I've been watching you," he admitted.  
  
"Yes, although I don't understand why."  
  
"That is because the only Malfoy I've ever known is arrogant, vindictive, and extremely vicious, and I didn't want to see you get hurt. You didn't seem like the other Slytherins. They don't feel things like everyone else. But," he said as she frowned, eyes hardening imperceptibly, "I've also noticed a completely different Malfoy over the past few days. One who doesn't depend on the approval of his Slytherin lackeys, one who seems genuinely happy for the first time in years, one who cares about things."  
  
Brynne's eyes had widened at this extremely perceptive analysis. "How do you know all that?"  
  
"'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.' Malfoy has been my rival for the better part of five years. You don't watch someone for that long without learning a few things about them. But that's not the point. My point is that Malfoy cares about you, I can tell. He's not going to go off the deep end because you kept something as inconsequential as that from him. You've been really good for him. He's changed."  
  
"You understand him so well," Brynne commented. "It's a shame that you two couldn't have been friends."  
  
Potter blanched. "I could never have been his friend as he was when we met. And as much as he's changed, I can't imagine his pride stretching so far as to make up with his rival of five years."  
  
Brynne played his words over in her head, realizing Potter had no real objection to her comment. An interesting idea, Potter and Draco friends. It would certainly cure her of the situation she currently found herself in.consorting with the enemy.  
  
"Hey," said Potter, breaking her from her thoughts, "do you have that snake with you?"  
  
"Yes," she replied, pulling up her sleeve to reveal the sleeping snake. She tenderly caressed the copper coils, a slight smile playing across her lips.  
  
"Do you always have him with you?" he asked.  
  
"Most of the time, unless there's a chance he could get hurt. I never bring him to the Quidditch pitch, for example."  
  
"Can I touch him? I like snakes."  
  
"I don't know. You could ask him," Brynne replied uncertainly.  
  
Potter began speaking in a soft hissing voice. Although Brynne could understand every word, she knew unmistakably that he was speaking Parseltongue. "What's your name?" she heard Potter ask.  
  
If Mordechai could have blinked in surprise, Brynne was sure he would have. The snake looked at her for assurance and she nodded back. "Mordechai," answered the snake in its own hissing tone.  
  
"Would you mind if I touched you?" Potter asked.  
  
Again Mordechai looked at Brynne. She shrugged, indicating it was the snake's decision. "No, I guess not," said Mordechai, uncoiling a bit. Potter stretched out his fingers toward the snake and ran them lightly along the coppery scales.  
  
"Impressive," Brynne commented. "Must be because you asked him, but usually Mordechai doesn't like people touching him unless I say it's alright. You saw how he reacted to you last night."  
  
"I was also in a threatening position," Potter replied, lifting his eyes from Mordechai to look her in the face. "Sorry about that."  
  
Brynne was temporarily lost in twin pools of green. She shook her head to clear it. "I think it would be best if we don't meet anymore. Draco would never forgive me for sneaking around to talk to you if he found out. He might think there's something going on."  
  
"Isn't there?" Potter asked softly.  
  
"No," she replied firmly.  
  
"Then why did you agree to meet me?"  
  
"You blackmailed me!" she exclaimed.  
  
"I didn't the first time."  
  
"I was curious what a high and mighty Gryffindor would have to say to a Slytherin that he couldn't say in front of a class of people."  
  
"I didn't think you would talk to me if there were people around," Potter replied.  
  
"I don't like many of my house-mates; I couldn't care less what they think."  
  
"And what of Draco?"  
  
"I know he won't like it, but I'm sure he would prefer me talking to you in public rather than me sneaking around."  
  
"Well, ok then, you won't mind if I talk to you in public?"  
  
"No, I guess not, but why?" she asked curiously.  
  
"You're the only person I've ever talked to who didn't feel it necessary to pry into my personal past or ask about my parents or the scar."  
  
Brynne paused, touched. Then she glanced at her watch. "As enlightening as this conversation has been, I'm afraid I've got to go, before I'm missed."  
  
"Who would be looking for you at this hour?" asked Potter.  
  
Brynne raised an eyebrow. "You mean you can't take a wild guess?" she asked with a smirk.  
  
"Where does he think you are now?" he asked frowning.  
  
"He's busy. In fact, he not even thinking about me, I'd wager," she replied, her expression not changing.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"If I tell you something, you have to keep it to yourself." She didn't know why she wanted to trust him with this secret. Maybe it was because he was being so honest with her. She saw him nod and continued. "I'm training Draco to be an animagus."  
  
"But to do that, you'd have to be." Realization dawned on his face. "You're an animagus?"  
  
"Wow, maybe Gryffindorks aren't as slow as I thought," she replied dryly.  
  
"How is that possible?"  
  
"I was trained by my parents when I was twelve. I'm not registered, which is why you're keeping this to yourself."  
  
"What animal are you?"  
  
"A fox named Scorch."  
  
"With your hair, it's really no wonder," Potter grinned.  
  
"Thank you," she said. "But really, I ought to go now."  
  
"When can we talk again?"  
  
"I don't know. When you have something you want to talk about." She handed back the invisibility cloak. "Now, get out of here, before you get your reputation tarnished by the evil Slytherin," Brynne said with a half-smile.  
  
"Never!" said Potter, striking a dramatic pose. "Me? Have my reputation tarnished? I think not!" he replied indignantly.  
  
"Just go Potter, before you get me in trouble," she pleaded, having some difficulty stifling a giggle.  
  
He flashed a grin and pulled the cloak over his head. "That reminds me," he said from under it, "the Weasley twins have their eyes on you."  
  
"They've got nothing," she scoffed, pulling open the door.  
  
"You've got that right! Their evidence was truly something to laugh at!"  
  
"Go you silly git!"  
  
"Fine!" he said laughing.  
  
She listened to his footsteps echo slightly as they receded down the hallway. Satisfied that he was far enough away, she stepped out the door and turned in the direction that would lead her to the Slytherin common room. Just as she turned the corner, she collided with a large dark figure. A hand reached out to steady her, but too late, as her head connected with the cold stone floor with a sickening crack. 


	18. Ch 18 Feelings

Ch. 18 Feelings  
  
Why was she lying in the Potions classroom surrounded by people? And why did they all look like Professor Snape? 'Professor Snape?' Brynne sat up with a jolt, instantly regretting the action as she was hit with a wave of nausea.  
  
"Lay back, Miss Dharielle," she heard as she was forced back into a lying position.  
  
"What's going on?" she asked weakly, noting the dull throb emanating from the back of her skull.  
  
"You took a nasty fall in the hallway. Hit your head pretty hard," replied Snape as he came back into view. He was holding a flask. "I want you to drink all of this, it will help with your head."  
  
Brynne sat up slowly, took the flask and put it to her lips, choking down the foul-tasting liquid. Immediately, a warm feeling permeated through her entire body, soothing her head and stomach. The warmth vanished when she heard the tone of Snape's voice.  
  
"What were you doing in the hall at this time of night?" Snape demanded sternly.  
  
She was faced with a dilemma: tell Snape the truth and risk his wrath at her betrayal, or try to lie to her favorite professor, which she was almost certain she wouldn't be able to do. Her mouth opened and closed silently as she tried to work out what to say.  
  
"Well?"  
  
She said the first thing that popped into her head. "I was just walking around."  
  
"Just walking around?" he repeated in a clearly disbelieving tone.  
  
"Yes," she said quickly, too quickly. Snape was looking at her closely, and she was frantic. She needed him to believe her so she could get back to Draco.  
  
Perhaps he noticed the frightened look in her eyes or the desperate tone of her voice, but whatever it was, told Snape to let the girl go. "Well, Miss Dharielle, you can go back to your room. And if you are compelled to be up this late out of your common room, please try to be more careful. Others would not be so lenient."  
  
Brynne scrambled quickly off the desk she had been lain on, and hastily made her way out the door before the fickle Potions master changed his mind. She rushed into the common room and up the stairs to her bedroom. She removed her cloak and tossed it on her bed. Then she coaxed Mordechai into his tank. He had slept through the whole ordeal.  
  
She found her way to Draco's door and ended the charms she had placed on it. She hoped that Draco had lost track of time like she had. She opened the door to find him still seated on the floor in a trance-like state. "Draco?" she asked softly.  
  
He started and turned to her. "What time is it?" he asked, dazed.  
  
Brynne glanced at her watch. "Three-thirty." I lost track of time. I meant to get you a half-hour ago."  
  
Draco blew out the candles and stood up. Brynne reached for his hand and led him over to his bed. She sat against the headboard while Draco leaned back against her.  
  
"Tell me how you did," she said, her fingers beginning to knead his flesh. "Wow, you're very relaxed," she murmured.  
  
Draco let escape a sigh of contentment and leaned his head on Brynne's shoulder. "Well, I could actually feel that awareness you mentioned at the cellular level. It was so strange. It was an almost tingly sensation. I was also able to synchronize my heartbeat and breathing."  
  
"Impressive." Draco was progressing so quickly. It was really quite amazing how quickly. At this rate, she would be teaching him mechanics by the end of the week. She shivered and drew Draco closer. "It's cold in here."  
  
Draco glanced at the fireplace. All that remained of the fire was a heap of dying embers. It must have gone out while he was in deep meditation. He felt her shiver again and pulled the silver and black quilt from beneath them and tucked it around them. He slid down under the covers until he was in a laying position, pulling Brynne down beside him and wrapping his arms around her.  
  
Brynne laid her head on his chest, reveling in the heat his body always seemed to radiate. "You make a good pillow," she murmured softly, as sleep began to overtake her.  
  
"Oh really?" asked Draco, his tone amused.  
  
"Yes," she breathed. "So comfy and gentle and warm.mmmm.warm."  
  
"I'm only warm for you," he whispered, but Brynne's breathing had already shifted into a rhythmic pattern that indicated sleep. He mentally kicked himself, glad she hadn't been awake to hear how utterly sappy he had just been. 'She just brings it out in me,' he thought. He felt his eyelids grow heavy as he began to yield to sleep. 'But for some reason, I don't care as much as I should.'  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
Morning came and went, and it was nearly one o'clock before Draco was awoken by a frenzied tapping at his window. He extracted himself from the girl who was still sleeping beside him and staggered to his feet. He crossed slowly to the window and opened it. The grateful owl flew in and perched on Draco's shoulder. Draco reached for the owl treats on his desk and gave Apollo a few. The owl squeezed Draco's shoulder gently and flew to the perch in his cage for a much-needed nap. 'Well, mission accomplished,' thought Draco. 'Just have to wait for the reply.'  
  
Draco looked up to see Shadow pacing madly around her cage. She squeaked happily when she noticed Draco was looking at her. 'Well, since Brynne's not up yet, I guess I'll play with my other favourite girl.' He went and opened the door to Shadow's cage and was almost not prepared when the little puff of silver fur came barreling towards him, chittering excitedly. "Calm down," he whispered as she climbed up to his shoulder to look around. "You'll wake her!" he hissed, jerking his head towards his bed.  
  
Shadow looked at his bed and noticed the figure he had indicated. She squeaked and scurried down Draco to the floor and across to the bed where Brynne lay. She caught the edge of a blanket and climbed up before Draco could stop her. The little silver-blonde ferret then snuggled up into Brynne's neck under the soft quilt.  
  
Brynne smiled and shifted, feeling the soft fur on her throat. She opened an eye a slit and was surprised to see a small silvery ball of fluff in bed with her instead of Aidynn. Then she realized where she was and relaxed. "Why'd you sic this furball on me, Draco? I was having the most wonderful dream," she said smiling.  
  
"Oh yeah?" he asked, sitting on the bed beside her. "What was it about?"  
  
"We were dancing. Just spinning and turning in perfect rhythm. Then we both transfigured. I was Scorch of course. And you were.you were."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You were.hmmm.well, I can't really recall, except to say you were bigger than me, with silvery fur the same color as your hair and with the same soulful grey eyes. That's what I remember best: silver eyes, staring into me, like they could read my mind. Anyways, after we transfigured, we kept on dancing, in perfect complement to each other. It was so beau-"  
  
The rest of her words were lost in Draco's mouth as he leaned over and kissed her, gently sucking her lips and massaging her tongue with his. Brynne, whose eyes had been open in the beginning, let her lids slide closed as her arms, seemingly of their own accord, drifted up around Draco's neck, a hand tangled in his hair.  
  
Draco pulled away, but before Brynne could protest, her eyes blurred and she moaned as Draco began to kiss his way from her jaw to her collarbone, only pausing to nibble the tender flesh at her throat. He smiled devilishly when she gasped and pulled his hair.  
  
Neglected, Shadow scampered off the bed and contented herself by chasing dust bunnies around the floor.  
  
Meanwhile, Draco reclaimed Brynne's mouth, her face cupped in both his hands. Brynne unwound her arms and grasped his slender hips, and he felt her tense beneath him. And then suddenly, he was on his back, Brynne straddling him, her green eyes sparkling down wickedly at him.  
  
His mouth opened, but the words never came out as Brynne devoured his mouth hungrily. She nipped his lips and tongue lightly as she kissed him and then trailed her tongue across his teeth. She pulled back as he made to kiss her and licked the tip of his nose playfully. He smiled and tried to kiss her again and again she pulled away. "Tease," he growled playfully.  
  
"You like it," she retorted. The she proceeded to trace a path with the tip of her tongue from his chin, up the curve of his jaw, to his ear, biting down gently on the lobe as he shivered in pleasure. "You do realize we have practice in little over a half an hour," she said in his ear. She pulled herself up, staring down at him.  
  
"What's your point?" he asked softly, reaching up to run his fingers across her lips.  
  
Her eyes closed and a smile played across her lips in response to the touch. "We have to get ready," she answered, her eyes remaining shut.  
  
"Are you sure?" he asked carefully, pulling himself up on his elbows beneath her.  
  
"Yes," she breathed, but her eyes and tongue said otherwise as she leaned down and claimed him mouth once more. Then she reluctantly climbed off the bed.  
  
"Shadow?" she sang, searching for the mischievious little rodent. The ferret zoomed out from under the bed and skidded to a halt before her. "There you are!" she said, lifting Shadow and scratching her ears. Shadow made a sound resembling a purr and basked in Brynne's attentions.  
  
Draco stared at Brynne for a minute. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for practice?" he asked.  
  
"Well, normally yes, but since you insist upon me using the locker rooms, I don't have to get changed until I get there. We should probably get going though. I'll be right back with my stuff." She handed Shadow to Draco and left the room. She returned minutes later carrying her Nimbus 2001.  
  
"Where are your Quidditch robes?" asked Draco.  
  
"Shrunken. I didn't want anyone to see them. You're going to have to carry this though, so as not to arouse suspicion. I don't like shrinking it."  
  
Draco put Shadow back in her cage. Then he took the broom from Brynne. Draco held up the shiny black broom so he could inspect it. It was virtually identical to the broom he flew, except Brynne's had completely black bristles and the most extraordinary paint job he had ever seen. The broom had a copper snake with green eyes painted entwined around the entire handle. At the tip of the handle, just under the inscription announcing the broom as a Nimbus 2001, "Bry" was inscribed in the same copper as the snake. The broom itself cost a fortune, but the detail work must have cost nearly as much. "Impressive," he murmured.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Brynne said. "It was an early birthday gift for making the Quidditch team." She smirked. "My birthday isn't for another five months. But anyways, we should get going. We're already going to be ten minutes late."  
  
"Oh really?" asked Draco, his eyes glinting. He grabbed a large cloak from his trunk and tossed it to Brynne. She caught it easily.  
  
"What's this for?" she asked.  
  
"Put it on." Brynne complied, and Draco handed her back her broom. She looked at him quizzically as he pulled out his own broom.  
  
"I thought you kept your things in the locker room," she said.  
  
"Not this. If it got stolen, my father would skin me alive and I likely wouldn't get another one until I beat Potter to the Snitch."  
  
"So what are we going to do?"  
  
"You are going to pull that cowl over your face, and we are going to jump out the window and race."  
  
Brynne's eyes lit up. "A race, eh? That sounds like fun. We'll see how a Beater stands up against a Seeker."  
  
"You're on!" he cried, opening wide the window. He then jumped out, mounting his broom in midair. "You coming?" he asked.  
  
"I wouldn't miss this for the world!" she exclaimed, mounting her own broom and exiting the room. She pulled up her hood as Draco closed the window behind her.  
  
He pivoted to face her. "Scared Potter?"  
  
"Excuse me, what?" she asked, flabbergasted.  
  
"Sorry, force of habit," he said sheepishly. "Ready, set, g-" At this point, Brynne took off, shouting something about a head start.  
  
"Go," he said in a growl, and sped off after her. He caught up about halfway between the castle and the pitch.  
  
Brynne glanced to her left and saw him catching up. She flattened herself to the broom and urged it on. She gained a few feet, but then he began to level with her. Eventually, she and Draco were even, and Brynne couldn't pull ahead. Slowly, Draco inched forward, and when they reached the pitch, he was a broom's length in front of her.  
  
The rest of the players were there already, hovering a few feet above the ground, but Draco and Brynne ignored them. The two flew circles around each other, fifty feet up. They chased each other through the air, performing barrel rolls and loop-the-loops and laughing hysterically all the while.  
  
From Blaise's viewpoint, just above the ground, the two moved with an elegance and grace that was anything but ordinary. The perfectly executed rolls and dives had all the appearance of a dance, but infinitely more natural. Blaise had never before seen anything more beautiful than the spectacle he was witnessing and his breath caught in his throat with awe.  
  
Blaise heard grumbling from the players around him and it brought him back to reality. Instinctively he knew that if his Captain didn't get down her to run practice, there was a potential for mutiny. Draco and Brynne didn't look anywhere near finished, so Blaise decided to take charge. He urged his broom up to the height they were currently flying at and waited for them to notice him.  
  
Knowing he wasn't nearly fast enough to chase them down, Blaise tried to anticipate where they would be heading, trying to strategically place himself where the two would see him. After what seemed like ages, Draco finally paused in front of Blaise, Brynne halting slightly to his side. "Yes Blaise?"  
  
"Um, the players are starting to get impatient. You may want to change quickly and start practice, before they get upset."  
  
Draco's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. "Thanks." He flew down to where the other players were waiting, Brynne and Blaise following behind.  
  
"Feeling a bit frisky, were you?" Blaise asked grinning.  
  
Brynne punched him in the shoulder none too gently, reddening slightly.  
  
"Your silence speaks volumes," he commented, and dodged her next strike, anticipating it. They hovered next to Draco, waiting for him to speak.  
  
"Practice today will be run much the same as the second half of yesterday's practice, except that since this a three and a half hour practice, the Chaser substitutions will run through three times, with a ten minute break every hour. Understood?" The players nodded. "Now then, Dharielle and I have to change, so I want the rest of you to fly laps around the field. Chasers, I want you to practice passing the Quaffle in high-speed flight. Everyone clear?" They all nodded again. "Good."  
  
Draco turned and flew to the entrance of the locker rooms, Brynne following his lead and chasing after him. They dismounted, heading in opposite directions after entering the Slytherin entrance.  
  
Minutes later they reappeared both clothed in their Quidditch robes.  
  
"You do realize you nearly beat me," Draco commented.  
  
"I cheated," Brynne replied.  
  
"Yes, but even with your head start, it shouldn't have taken so long for me to catch up. I'm a Seeker. And you're the fastest person on the team besides me."  
  
"We'd better get going, before the team gets really upset," Brynne broke in, changing the subject.  
  
"Right you are," Draco replied, mounting his broom. "Need to have you and Blaise master the Dopplebeater Defense, so you can knock Potter off his broom and his high-horse in two weeks."  
  
Brynne looked away uneasily before her eyes could give her away. Would she even have the heart to aim another Bludger at him after their conversation? She hoped so. 'I can't let personal feelings get in the way of my game. Please don't let personal feelings get in the way.' 


	19. Ch 19 The Great Defender

Ch. 19 The "Great Defender"  
  
Practice had been excruciatingly long, but overall had been beneficial. Brynne and Blaise had almost mastered the Dopplebeater Defense. Unfortunately, Blaise wouldn't let the matter drop of Brynne and Draco's "performance" earlier, so Brynne had been extraordinarily tempted to use a Backbeat to aim the Bludger at him.  
  
At five-thirty, when practice had ended, Brynne and Blaise had stayed behind. Draco was still floating up about eighty feet from the ground. He circled lazily a few times and then angled into a steep dive, hurtling towards the ground at a frightening speed. He was making no move to pull up, and Brynne gasped as, three feet above the ground, Draco pulled up and evened out, the bristles of his broom just grazing the grass beneath him. A perfectly executed Wronski Feint.  
  
Draco flew over to them, grey eyes sparkling mischieviously. "You like that?" Brynne and Blaise nodded, too stunned to speak. "Well, he didn't," he stated, indicating a shadow in the stands.  
  
Blaise squinted, trying to make out who it was. Brynne didn't bother; she already had a pretty good idea who it was. She had felt the familiar eyes on her.  
  
"Potter," Draco spat, confirming Brynne's suspicions. "Probably spying since we're the Gryffindork's only real competition. So I thought I'd give him something to stare at."  
  
"Well, I think he got the point," Blaise commented, nodding towards the now- empty seat.  
  
"I'd hate to cut in on your Potter-bashing boys," Brynne said, a bit too defensively, "but we've got dinner in fifteen, so I'm going to shower. See ya." She sped away before either by could respond.  
  
"What got into her?" Draco asked, bewildered.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
Dinner went off without a hitch. Draco and Blaise appeared to have forgotten about Brynne's little outburst. It had been three hours that Draco and Brynne had been studying Transfiguration. Draco had already gotten through the pertinent information in three of the six books Brynne was making him study, and she was, yet again, impressed with his progress.  
  
"I'm going to the library while you're meditating. I need to study for Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. Those classes appear to be Granger's strengths."  
  
Draco nodded and, as she left, he thought he heard her grumble something about "Flitwick's Pet".  
  
Brynne retreated to her room to gather the materials she would need. She was about to leave when she heard a yipping. She felt a pang of guilt when she realized she hadn't spent very much time with Aidynn over the past few days. She went back to his basket and lifted him out. "If you promise to be quiet, I'll take you with me. I would have been lonely by myself." She put the little fox in her book bag on top of her books. "Stay," she told him as he started to wriggle out. Once he was settled, Brynne left.  
  
Brynne entered the library and chose a table as far from the Restricted Section as possible. She didn't want Madame Pince to see Aidynn. She removed her Hogwarts robe and laid it on the chair beside her. She took Aidynn out of her bag and put him on the robe and covered everything but his face. Satisfied that no one would notice him, Brynne began to lay out her books on the table.  
  
She was just opening her Charms textbook when she heard three people enter the library whose voices she recognized. She groaned as she heard their footsteps approach. What were they doing in the library at ten-thirty at night on a Saturday? Brynne didn't have time to think on that, or the fact that she too was in the library on a Saturday night, before they came up to her table.  
  
"You're sitting at our table," Granger said, sounding more than a little annoyed.  
  
Brynne fixed the other girl with a perfectly vicious glare before turning her gaze on Potter. "Hello Potter."  
  
"Brynne," she replied with a slight nod.  
  
"Why are you being polite? She's a Slytherin," she heard Weasley hiss.  
  
"Astute observation, Weasley," she sneered. "You have Granger here figure that out for you?"  
  
Weasley turned red and growled, stepping forward menacingly. Brynne's eyes narrowed. She stood up to face the taller redhead. "You have something you want to say to me, Weasley," she asked in a low voice.  
  
"I have lots of things I'd like to say to you, Slytherin scum," he snarled back.  
  
At the threatening tone in his voice, Brynne's robe began to growl. Weasley took a confused step back. Brynne leaned down and whispered reassuringly to the bundle containing her fox.  
  
"Ron," Potter said in a warning tone. "Don't speak to her like that, she's not like the other Slytherins."  
  
"Why are you defending her? You heard exactly what she said! She is just like the other Slytherins! If I didn't know any better, I'd say she'd taken a page out of Malfoy's book. For all we know, she has!" Weasley screeched.  
  
"I agree, and anyways Harry, how would you know whether she is or is not like other Slytherins? I must admit she certainly is acting like your typical Slytherin," said Granger, shooting Brynne a poisonous look.  
  
Potter started to answer, but Brynne got there first. "Potter and I have an understanding," she said, winking at him.  
  
"God, Harry, tell me you're not dating her!" Weasley exclaimed.  
  
"No," Potter replied, turning a lovely shade of pink. "We're just friends."  
  
"Friends with a Slytherin? What's next? Tea with Malfoy?" asked Granger sarcastically.  
  
"Actually," Brynne cut in, "Draco doesn't drink tea. He prefers coffee."  
  
"This is ridiculous!" Granger exclaimed. "You say she isn't like other Slytherins, and yet she behaves like sodding Malfoy!"  
  
"You have no idea what you're talking about, Mudblood," Brynne growled. Granger backed up a step at her dangerous tone. "You want your damn table so badly? Fine. Just don't ever presume to understand me, or Draco. I am almost assured of your ignorance when it comes to those areas." Brynne shoved her books into her book bag and shouldered it. Then she lifted Aidynn and wrapped her robe around him gently. With one last imploring look at Potter, Brynne turned and walked away, to a table in a shadowy corner a few tables from where she had been sitting.  
  
Brynne sank into the first chair she saw and put Aidynn on the table in front of her. She buried her face in his soft fur, crying silently as the little fox attempted to lick away her tears. She tensed as Aidynn began to growl, trying valiantly to get her tears under control so the Gryffindors wouldn't see her in a weak moment. "Come back to hit me while I'm down? More of a Slytherin thing to do, really. I suggest you go back the way you came. I'm not in the mood," she said quietly, her voice still thick with unshed tears.  
  
"And neither, it appears, is your fox," said a playful voice.  
  
"Not funny," she said, turning to face him, her eyes glistening. "Potter, he would eat you up if I told him he could."  
  
"No doubt. Look, I'm sorry about that. I should have explained things to them earlier. They had no right to attack you. If it makes you feel better, I think they're angrier at me than at you," he said, taking the seat beside her. Aidynn began to growl.  
  
"It's ok, Aidynn," she whispered to the fox soothingly. Brynne looked into the green eyes of the boy beside her. "That does little to make me feel better. As a matter of fact, it probably makes me feel worse. I should have known we couldn't be friends without facing the prejudices of our friends. It could have been my imagination, but these two were just as bad as some of my housemates," she told him bitterly. "I can't blame them though. They are just judging me from what they know of every other Slytherin, and I can't hold it against them. They were part right. I certainly did nothing to make them think otherwise. But I couldn't take hearing them speak of Draco like that. He's not like that anymore. No one sees him the way I do," she said sadly.  
  
"You can't really blame them for not believing that after only a few days, can you?" he asked, wiping a tear from her cheek.  
  
"It still hurts to hear them talk like that. But I don't want to discuss it anymore. And if you tell anyone you saw me like this, I will hunt you down and turn you into a mushroom, friend or not."  
  
Potter laughed. "Fair enough. Anyways, what are you doing in the library at this hour?"  
  
"I could ask you the same question."  
  
"Hermione is forcing Ron and me to study for our O.W.L.'s. But since she's mad at me, I don't have to study anymore," he said triumphantly. "What about you?"  
  
"Studying," she replied with a smirk. "Neither my dorm nor the common room is very conducive for it, so I came up here while Draco's meditating. How are you in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts?"  
  
"Defense Against the Dark Arts is my best subject, and I'm fairly good at Charms. Why?"  
  
"You can study with me. They are some of my weaker subjects," Brynne replied, pulling out her books.  
  
He grinned, scooting closer to her. "And here I'd thought I'd escaped homework."  
  
It continued that way for almost a week: Brynne going to the library and Potter joining her there. It was hardly secret though. Potter even brought Seamus Finnegan with him a few times. Brynne and Seamus got along fine, and Brynne learned that he didn't even live very far from her mansion in Monaghan, Ireland. However, Harry (she had begun to call him that in her head) had never brought Granger or Weasley again, and Brynne was just fine with that. She was happy talking with Harry and occasionally Seamus. Little did she know, that everything was about to change. 


	20. Ch 20 Out in the Open

Ch. 20 Out in the Open  
  
It was Sunday night, and Draco had completed all the necessary bookwork and knew it inside and out. Brynne had begun the first lesson on mechanics that night, and Draco had grasped the concepts quickly. Brynne, despite Draco's progress, didn't want to hurry things by actually letting him try to transfigure though, so she left him to meditate. She hurriedly cast the silencing charm and left, forgetting to lock the door. She was in such a rush, Brynne didn't even notice the shadowy figure standing against the wall, watching her movements curiously. If Brynne hadn't been in such a hurry, she might have heard the footsteps echoing behind her as she walked to the library.  
  
Te person who followed Brynne pressed their body against a bookcase, dumbstruck. The person couldn't believe it when they saw whom Brynne was sitting with, talking to, even smiling at. A mouth curved up into an evil grin. Oh, but wouldn't Draco love to know?  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
"Pansy, what do you want?" asked a very irritated Draco. His meditation had just been quite painfully interrupted by the girl's screeching voice calling his name. "I'm a little busy right now."  
  
"But I've got to show you something," she said mysteriously, a wicked gleam in her eyes.  
  
Draco noticed the look in her eyes and it made him wary. "I really don't have time for this now. Can't it wait?"  
  
"No, it can't wait," Pansy whined. "You have to come now. I'm not leaving until you do."  
  
Draco sighed resignedly, blew out the candles and stood up. He knew what Pansy was like when she got like this. How else would he have gone to the Yule Ball with her? "Fine, but this better not take long."  
  
"Oh, it won't," she replied, the edge returning to her voice.  
  
That put Draco on guard. That tone indicated that Pansy was going to enjoy this, but more than likely, Draco would not. Pansy left the room and reluctantly, Draco followed.  
  
When they began to approach the library, Draco felt a sense of dread creep into his body. He knew that was where Brynne was. He began to walk slower, apprehensive of what Pansy seemed so excited to show him.  
  
"Come on!" she cried impatiently, grabbing Draco's arm and pulling him into the library.  
  
Draco looked around for what he could possibly need to see. He noticed Brynne sitting at a table with two dark-haired boys. One of them shifted, and the recognition of the boys' green eyes sent a wave of nausea through him, which in turn became burning anger. None of them had noticed him yet, which suited Draco just fine. He wanted the element of surprise when he attacked. That, however, would have to wait until after he had regained control of his body, which had gone rigid in his fury. He growled, and the trio jumped and turned to look at him, horror and shock manifest on their faces.  
  
"Draco?" Brynne whispered. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Malfoy, this isn't what it looks like," Potter said quickly.  
  
"Potter," Draco spat hatefully, as though to say his name was to contract a disease, "stay out of this. I'll deal with you later." He turned to Brynne, shaking with ire. "How long has this been going on?" he asked, a dangerous calm settling over his voice.  
  
"Nothing is going on, Draco. Potter and I are just friends," she replied desperately.  
  
"If nothing is going on, why are you sneaking around to see him?" Draco shouted.  
  
"If we were sneaking around, wouldn't we be alone?"  
  
But Draco wouldn't listen to reason. "Do you remember the first thing you said to me? Do you?" he prompted, almost hysterical.  
  
Brynne shook her head sadly.  
  
"You said 'Potter's not so great'. You remember that? What changed your mind?" he snarled.  
  
"I never changed my mind," she said quietly, but Draco was already walking away. "I realized I was right. He's just a normal person. He's not so great. That's why I like him." But Draco was already gone.  
  
Brynne hung her head in her hands and began to sob uncontrollably, not even trying to quell her tears. She heard a snicker from behind her and cried harder.  
  
Seamus got up out of his chair quietly and calmly walked over to Pansy, who was still in the library and seemed to be possessed with a fit of giggles. "I suggest you leave now," he said threateningly, his Irish accent seeming thicker due to his intense anger. "You have wreaked enough havoc for today, Slytherin scum," he continued softly. "If you don't, I might decide not to control my infamous Irish temper and knock you about a bit despite your decidedly pathetic attempt at looking like a girl."  
  
Pansy's eyes narrowed and she looked about to say something, but she saw something in the boy's brown eyes that told her he wasn't bluffing. She closed her mouth and hurried out of the library, hurriedly glancing back at Seamus as she exited.  
  
Meanwhile, Brynne was still bawling into her hands. Potter looked around desperate for a way to soothe the distraught girl. "It'll be alright," he said lamely, setting his hand on her shoulder gently.  
  
Brynne looked up quickly, her eyes glittering like emeralds with misplaced anger and tears. "'It'll be alright?'" she asked mockingly. "'It'll be alright?!'" Her tone rose with each word. "I told you this would happen!" she screeched, her voice growing shrill. She stood up, glowering down at Potter with eyes that were bloodshot and red-rimmed from crying. She gathered her books and shoved them violently into her book bag. She began to walk away quickly, hoping to get away before a fresh wave of tears escaped.  
  
She felt Potter catch her arm as she was about to leave the library. "Please don't go," he pleaded.  
  
"Haven't you done enough?" she asked severely. "Let go."  
  
"I didn't mean for this to happen."  
  
"You know what? That doesn't matter. You are like a walking disease. You hurt everything you touch and you don't even realize it." Potter opened his mouth to object, a wounded look in his eyes, but Brynne ignored this, if she even noticed, so insane with grief was she. "Just stay away from me, Scarhead," she said darkly, before wrenching her arm free and running from the room.  
  
Potter turned to Seamus, dumbstruck. "What just happened?"  
  
"I don't know girls too well, but I'd say that you just said the exact wrong thing, mate," Seamus replied dryly. "I bet she's not even mad at you. You were just a convenient target." He noticed his words were having little effect on the other boy. "Come on," he said, "let's just get back to the tower. You're gonna need some sleep." Potter reluctantly let himself be led away. 


	21. Ch 21 Misplaced Blame

Ch. 21 Misplaced Blame  
  
Brynne made it nearly to the entrance of the common room before she was overtaken by another fit of sobs. She leaned her back against the wall and let herself slide to the floor, where she sat, her body heaving as she struggled to breathe. She pulled her legs up into her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her forehead on her knees. The seemingly ceaseless stream of tears poured down her face, her sobs echoing slightly against the dungeon walls and down the corridor. So devastated was she, she didn't even notice how loud she was being, and likely wouldn't have cared if she had. She didn't notice when a person pulled her to her feet and practically carried her into a small, comfortably furnished living room and sat her in front of a large roaring fireplace. She didn't notice when the person wrapped a large quilt around her shoulders. What finally shocked her out of her misery was a soft voice asking, "What's wrong?"  
  
Brynne looked up into eyes so dark they looked black, confusion playing across her tear-stained face. She looked into a face usually so plagued with sternness and saw now only gentleness and concern. The oddity of it all sent another wave of tears running down her cheeks.  
  
She launched herself at Professor Snape, forgetting he was a teacher, that he was the last to be expected to offer comfort, forgetting everything in her anguish except that he was a person offering her compassion, and she needed that. She buried her face in his shoulder, her sobs muffled by his thick black cloak.  
  
Snape rubbed her back awkwardly, not used to comforting grief-stricken students. "Shh," he said hoarsely, "you need to calm down so you can tell me what happened."  
  
Brynne took a few deep breaths, her head resting comfortably on his chest. He breathing ragged, she began to recount her tale, every so often interrupted by an escaped sob. She started at the beginning and never wavered from the truth, even telling him what she had actually been doing the night she ran into him.  
  
"You think I betrayed him too, don't you?" she asked quietly after she finished.  
  
"I don't know," he replied after a moment's hesitation. "That all depends. If Draco had asked you who you were with or what you were doing, would you have told him?"  
  
"Yes," came the immediate reply.  
  
"Well, if that's true, then there really was no betrayal. I think if you give him some time, he will realize this."  
  
"Sir?" she asked after a pause.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Thank you so much," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.  
  
"Yes, well, you'd better get back to your dormitory," Snape replied uncomfortably, unsure how to react to the student hanging from his neck. As she let go, he continued. "If Miss Parkinson causes any more trouble, inform me straight away. And Brynne?" he asked, just as she was leaving.  
  
"Yes, Professor?"  
  
"Mr. Potter was right. Everything will be alright."  
  
She smiled weakly in response and went to her room. She removed Aidynn from his basket and collapsed with him on her bed, cuddling him to her. She was too exhausted even to cry. As she drifted into sleep, she thought, 'Even if I was strong enough to cry, I doubt I have any tears left.'  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
When Brynne awoke the next morning in her own room for the first time in nearly a week and a half, she realized that the horrible events of last night had not been a nightmare as she had hoped. She looked over at her clock, noting she had a half-hour before her first class started. Potions. With Draco and Harry. She groaned and rolled over, hugging Aidynn to her and covering her head with her comforter. Snape would understand.or even if he didn't Brynne wasn't sure she cared. For the first time ever, she wasn't going to go to class.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
"Hey Draco, where's Brynne?" asked Blaise, sitting next to the blonde Slytherin. Neither Draco nor Brynne had been at breakfast that morning, and now that Brynne hadn't shown up for Potions, Blaise was starting to worry.  
  
"Don't know, don't care, don't ask," came the monotone reply.  
  
Blaise was taken aback. What had happened since dinner last night that would cause Brynne to miss a class and cause Draco to act so indifferent towards her? Unfortunately, judging from the answer Blaise had just received, he knew there was no way he was going to find out from Draco without inciting the boy's anger. And without the other half of the equation present, Blaise was never going to get the story. Unless there was another part to the equation Blaise hadn't considered.  
  
Draco was staring at Potter with such malice, Blaise felt stupid he hadn't noticed it immediately. And the green-eyed boy was glaring back with no less hatred. Blaise was tempted to ask Potter what had happened, and yet he knew there was no way he could even approach Potter with Draco around, lest he turn on Blaise. So he just sat through the class watching the silent war of wills between the two rivals. It wasn't surprising that Blaise didn't notice that Snape never questioned Brynne's whereabouts, or that fact that the Potions master watched the two archenemies with a knowing look.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
There were five minutes left to Potions class, and Draco and Potter had made it the whole time without directing any nasty words to the other. Granted, they hadn't exchanged any words, but that really wasn't the point. Their eyes had scarcely left the other boy, however, and the pressure was becoming almost unbearable for both of them.  
  
Class ended and as Draco and Blaise packed their things, Blaise saw Potter's approach out of the corner of his eye. So, apparently had Draco, because as Potter came closer, Draco turned to face him, his silver eyes brimming with menace, as well as another emotion Blaise couldn't place in Draco's eyes it was so foreign.  
  
"What the hell do you want, Potter?" Draco spat.  
  
"You are blaming this on her, and you don't know the whole story," answered Potter through gritted teeth.  
  
"Nor do I want to. I doubt I have the stomach for it. I suggest you leave me alone before I get really angry," Draco growled, eyes flashing dangerously.  
  
"This isn't right!" Potter practically shouted. "She loves you and yet you pass judgment without knowing all the facts. Nothing gives you that right!"  
  
"Just give me a reason, Scarhead," said Draco, his voice so low it was barely audible.  
  
"Malfoy," Potter said, his voice taking on a pleading tone. "Please don't do this to her. If you want to hurt me, fine, I can take it. But she doesn't deserve this. This whole situation is my fault and-"  
  
Draco had had enough. Brynne had betrayed him, and here was Potter, who could throw salt on the wound through his mere presence, trying to talk reasonably to him. It was too much. With a snarl, he threw himself at Potter, fists swinging mercilessly, his wand forgotten. Both boys were knocked to the floor with the momentum of Draco's attack, as well as a desk and several chairs.  
  
"Malfoy, you don't have to do this!" Potter shouted, trying to avoid Draco's fists. He caught one in the jaw before he could wriggle away.  
  
"I do," Draco replied, panting with exertion, "if you don't stay out of my bloody business!" he shouted, leaping at Potter again.  
  
"I didn't want to fight with you Malfoy, but you leave me no choice," Potter said angrily as another of Draco's punches connected. "Brynne is a good girl!" he shouted as he struck Draco in the mouth. "She did nothing to wrong you!" Potter punched Draco in the eye. "Nothing happened!" he asserted forcefully, throwing Draco off him and into a heap at Blaise's feet.  
  
Potter got to his feet painfully, becoming aware of the half of the class that had been present for their little episode, Snape included. He groaned at the realization. He was going to be slapped with so much detention.  
  
"Zabini," Snape barked. "Clean up that mess," he spat distastefully, glaring at the bloody heap that was Draco. He glanced up at Potter with something resembling respect in his eyes. "Ten points from Gryffindor," he said, raising an eyebrow. Potter realized that this was as close to getting off scot-free as he was going to get with Snape and gave a slight nod of gratitude in return. "Now all of you get out," Snape growled.  
  
Draco was pulled roughly to his feet, still rather groggy. His mouth was full of blood from a nasty cut lip and his left eye was nearly swollen shut. Blaise pulled him out of the room and into a dark corridor, slamming him against the wall so aggressively that Draco's breath left him.  
  
"What the hell has gotten into you, Draco?" he shouted, inches from the other boy's badly bruised face. "Well?" Draco slumped against the wall, refusing to answer. "Then maybe I should ask Potter. He seemed more than willing to tell anyone who listened. What happened between you and Brynne?" Draco flinched at her name, remaining silent, and Blaise sighed. "Draco, I'm your friend, you can trust me. I don't want to hear this from anyone but you." Draco turned his face away. "This isn't worth it," Blaise muttered, walking away.  
  
It took every ounce of Draco's pride not to call out to Blaise. He knew his friend was right; he did need to tell Blaise, but it was too painful to talk about. He had been secretly relieved as well as slightly worried when Brynne hadn't shown up for Potions. He didn't think he could have stood the sight of her so soon after last night.  
  
He made his way slowly to the common room and up to his bedroom, collapsing on his bed. Tears began to trickle slowly down his cheeks and try as he may, he could not get them to stop. Every time he inhaled, all he could smell was roses: Brynne. She was all over everything. He couldn't escape her, even in his own bed. And no matter how he denied it, he also couldn't escape the distinct feeling he was missing something. 


	22. Ch 22 Making Amends

Ch. 22 Making Amends  
  
Brynne didn't make it to any of her Monday classes, but she absolutely couldn't bear the thought of missing any more, so Tuesday morning she dragged herself out of bed in time for breakfast.  
  
She was expecting a melee when she first entered the Great Hall, and was quite nervous about it, but what she received was rather anti-climactic. When she entered the large dining room, several heads perked up curiously, but no one asked her anything, or even spoke to her at all. She went over to the Ravenclaw table, where Blair sat staring at her, worry twisting her delicate features.  
  
She sat down across for Blair and, before either girl could speak, a house- elf appeared. Since all Brynne had eaten yesterday was some chocolate frogs, she was so ravenous she ordered food enough to feed several people. They waited in silence for Brynne's food to arrive, and when it did, and Brynne began eating without a word, Blair exploded.  
  
"What's going on, Brynne?" she exclaimed, ignoring their surroundings and the shocked looks she was receiving. "You missed class yesterday, and you never miss class! Not only that, but I hear rumours of Draco and Harry Potter fighting, which, in and of itself is not unusual, but that your name was involved. Blaise and Draco aren't speaking to one another, and Blaise won't tell me why. Draco isn't talking to anyone, and I haven't seen you since Sunday at dinner. What the hell is going on, Brynne?" she screeched.  
  
Brynne's mouth fell open. She had had no idea that the situation had gotten so out of control, and she had never heard Blair curse. "I'll tell you," she whispered, "but after I've eaten. I only had some chocolate frogs yesterday, and I'm famished." Blair nodded, infinitely more composed than she had been but a few minutes ago.  
  
Brynne finished her food quickly, despite how much she had ordered. "We have fifteen minutes before our classes start. Follow me," she told Blair.  
  
Blair gave her a funny look. "Why can't we just talk here?"  
  
"They're watching us," Brynne answered nervously in a hushed voice, glancing around. And indeed, all the eyes in the room were fixed on them. Brynne felt the familiar green eyes trained on her and flinched, not willing to turn and check. After the horrible things she'd said to Harry, she would be immensely surprised if he ever spoke to her again.  
  
Blair saw the anxious look on her friend's face and sighed. "Ok, let's go." Brynne pulled her out of the room and out of sight behind a large suit of armor beside the mahogany doors.  
  
Brynne proceeded to tell Blair a slightly abridged version of the truth, carefully leaving out any references to animagi or the training thereof. As she told the story, she remembered that in her hysterics Sunday night, she had told Professor Snape everything. Funny how it hadn't registered at the time. She hoped Snape would keep her secret. She fancied he would like having one up on McGonagall.  
  
Blair's eyes widened at the end of the story when Brynne told her what she had said to Harry. "And I didn't even mean it," she finished miserably. "He's going to hate me forever now. Him and Draco." At this Blair began to laugh. Brynne looked up sharply, a hurt look on her face. "What's that for?"  
  
"If you think that Harry Potter is going to hate you forever, then I'd have to say you've got another thing coming. Did you even see how he was looking at you this morning?" Brynne shook her head. She'd been afraid to look. "Well, for your information, he was staring at you the whole time with the most depressed look ever on his face. And if I'm not mistaken, here he comes," Blair cried, shoving Brynne straight into the arms of a startled Harry Potter.  
  
"Sorry," she mumbled, eyes lowered, trying to escape as quickly as possible.  
  
"It's ok. I know you didn't mean it," he replied, voice full of meaning. He lifted her chin gently so she was meeting his gaze. "You didn't, did you?"  
  
"No," she said tearfully, hugging him. She looked into his face. "Is that a bruise?" she asked touching his cheek gently.  
  
He winced. "Yeah," he replied. "But I like to think I gave better than I received," he said dryly. "You must have heard about the row Draco and I got into yesterday. I was trying to tell him the truth, but he just got mad. Already being so pale made the bruises stand out more," he said apologetically.  
  
"It's ok," Brynne responded softly. "I know you wouldn't do something like that unless there was no other choice. Thank you for defending me."  
  
"No problem. Really," he said, leveling eyes with her.  
  
"Anyways, I've got to get my stuff for Defense Against the Dark Arts. I can't afford to skip any more classes," she said. "I'll talk to you in Herbology. 'Bye!" she called as she ran towards the dungeons.  
  
She collected her things quickly and left, heading up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She was moving so quickly, Brynne nearly collided with Professor Snape on the stairs leading out of the dungeons.  
  
"I can see you haven't learned from your mistakes, Brynne," he said, grasping her shoulder firmly to steady her.  
  
"Yes, Professor," she replied, reddening slightly.  
  
"I took the liberty of informing Hagrid and Professor Vector that you had an acceptable excuse for your absence yesterday. Mr. Zabini has your assignments for those classes, I believe."  
  
"Professor, what about the assignment for your class?" asked Brynne.  
  
"I'm afraid that, due to forces outside my control," he scowled, "there was no assignment. I must admit however, that your Mr. Potter behaved quite admirably. Just like a Gryffindor would be expected to act," he said distastefully.  
  
"Yes, I know," Brynne replied with a smile. "There is one other thing though."  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"I'm not going to be punished for being an unregistered animagus, am I?" she whispered nervously.  
  
"No. Not by me at any rate. And I'm not going to tell anyone about it either, if that's what you're worried about," Snape replied. "Now run along," he commanded. "You're late."  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
The only seats left when Brynne arrived at Defense Against the Dark Arts, ten minutes late, were one beside Draco and another with Blaise. She opted for Blaise, knowing she had to get her assignments anyways, and she wanted him to know the truth. She desperately wanted Draco to know the truth as well, but she knew he wasn't ready to hear it.  
  
"Can I sit here, Blaise?" she asked quietly.  
  
"Sure," he answered emotionlessly.  
  
"Blaise," she said, sitting down, "what's wrong?"  
  
"I don't even know," he sighed. "That's the problem. Draco won't tell me anything. All I know is from what Potter shouted at him when the two of them fought. I really wanted Draco to be able to trust me enough to tell me, but since he obviously doesn't, could you please tell me?"  
  
"I don't think trust has anything to do with it. It's probably too painful for him to talk about," Brynne replied. "He found out Sunday night that I'm friends with Harry Potter and that we've been studying in the library together every night for nearly a week. It came as quite a shock to him and he assumed something was going on. Nothing was of course; I would never do that to Draco. He wouldn't listen though, when I tried to explain."  
  
"He wouldn't listen yesterday when Potter tried to explain, either. What he was saying actually makes sense now. Anyways, Draco didn't want to hear it, and tried to knock him out. Potter didn't want to fight, but ended up beating Draco soundly."  
  
At this point, Brynne took a good look at Draco. His face, normally pale and unblemished, had a large purple bruise on his right cheek, just below his eye. His lower lip was rather puffy and swollen as well. She couldn't see much of his left side from this angle, but it appeared to her that his left eye was blackened. He looked absolutely miserable, like he had crawled out of bed and come straight to class. Judging from his hair and robes, he had done just that.  
  
"The weird thing was that Snape hardly punished Potter at all," Blaise broke in thoughtfully. Brynne hid a smile. "I have just one question," he said. "I thought you and Draco had been doing a top-secret something-or- other every night. What was he doing that he didn't notice you'd gone?"  
  
"He knew I was at the library," Brynne began hesitantly. Should she tell Blaise? It was as good a time as any. "He was meditating," she continued in a whisper. "I was trained as an animagus by my parents. I'm unregistered. Draco found out and wanted me to train him. Do you understand now why we had to keep it such a big secret?"  
  
Blaise nodded. "And here I thought you two were snogging that whole time."  
  
Brynne reddened, but ignored his comment. "I told Blair everything except the part about the animagus training. I would prefer if, when you talk to her, you didn't mention it. And talk to her! She thinks you're mad at her!"  
  
"Well, I'm hardly mad at her. I just couldn't answer any of her questions."  
  
"Well, just talk to her soon. I know she'd appreciate it. I have to ask you your opinion on something," she said, growing serious. "What is your opinion of me and Potter being friends?"  
  
"I really couldn't care less. What I would like to know is why you didn't tell Draco. You knew he was going to be upset, but I am almost certain he would have been more understanding if you had told him instead of him finding out the way he did."  
  
Brynne sighed. "I really don't know why I didn't tell him. I think that I was afraid that he would hate me, or make me choose. I would have chosen him, but I didn't want to have to choose between them. It was really rather stupid of me, I know. Now he's made the choice for me, and not the one I would've made."  
  
"I don't think he wanted to do it. I've seen the pain in his eyes," Blaise replied. "I think maybe he saw it as his only option. Now that you and Potter are out in the open with your friendship, Draco will realize that's all it is and may change his mind. I can't help being slightly disappointed in your lack of faith, though. But I'm sure he'll come around, just give him time."  
  
"I hope you're right," she replied softly, letting her gaze drift back to Draco. She saw him avert his eyes quickly, realizing he had been watching her and Blaise. She could wait. She didn't particularly like being away from him this long, but if he needed time, she would give it to him. She wasn't, however, going to stop protecting him. 


	23. Ch 23 The Feeding Habits of Slytherins

Ch. 23 The Feeding Habits of Slytherins  
  
"Potter, can I ask a favour?" Brynne hissed into the boy's ear half-way through lunch.  
  
:Sure," he riplied, getting up to follow her from the Great Hall despite the looks he was receiving from Granger and Weasley. "What is it?" he asked after they got outside the enormous dining room.  
  
"Well, Draco wasn't in there for lunch, and I'm fairly certain he didn't eat anything for breakfast."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And I was wondering if you knew where the kitchen is. I want to take him some food," Brynne explained quickly.  
  
"Draco sure is lucky to have you. I can take you now if you like," he said, leading her to a flight of stairs.  
  
"And.can I borrow your invisibility cloak?" she asked hesitantly.  
  
"Sure, for what?"  
  
"I want to make sure he takes the food, without him knowing I'm around."  
  
They were standing in front of a large painting containing different fruits. "Tickle the pear," he told her. Brynne looked at him skeptically. "Just do it."  
  
She reached out and tickled the painting and gasped when the pear giggled and transformed into a doorknob. Brynne looked at Harry in shock, but he just rolled his green eyes dramatically and opened the painting to reveal a kitchen bustling with busy house-elves. One elf ran up to Harry and hugged him around the legs, saying, "Harry Potter has come to visit Dobby!" in a high-pitched voice, his huge eyes watering slightly.  
  
Brynne gazed at the house-elf distastefully. It looked ridiculous with its long nose and enormous floppy ears. And this one's clothing was particularly garish. None of it matched and the diminutive creature was wearing a tea cozy for a hat. She was secretly glad that she had had Pilar, her Spanish nanny, taking care of her when she was younger, instead of one of these grubby little beasts. She wondered how they managed to take care of wizarding children when they couldn't even keep themselves clean.  
  
"Dobby, this is my friend, Brynne," Harry was saying.  
  
"Dobby is happy to meet you, friend of Harry Potter!"  
  
"Brynne," she corrected, byt the Dobby-creature wasn't paying attention to her anymore.  
  
"Can Dobby get Harry Potter some food?"  
  
"Sure," answered Harry. "That's why we came." Dobby hurried away and came back, moments later, with a large basket laden with enough food for five people.  
  
"Will this be enough, Harry Potter?" Dobby squeaked.  
  
Brynne nearly laughed when Harry replied with a thoughtful, "I hope so."  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
"You shouldn't have said that!" Brynne exclaimed when they were finally able to tear themselves away. "He nearly gave you another basket of food!"  
  
"Hey, you wanna see Gryffindor Tower?" Harry asked mischieviously as they began to climb a flight of stairs. "No one will see you. They're all still in the Great Hall eating."  
  
"And even it anyone were to see me, no one would dare question the great Harry Potter!" Brynne said with a smirk.  
  
"But they question me all the time!" he exclaimed. "'Can I take a picture, Harry?' 'Would you sign an autograph, Harry?' 'Can I have a lock of hair?'" He sighed dramatically. "There just isn't enough Harry Potter to go around," he said, sounding exasperated.  
  
Brynne couldn't control her peals of laughter, and she cuffed him in the shoulder. Suddenly, Harry stopped walking. Brynne looked up to see a portrait of a rather large woman wearing a pink dress. Brynne wondered why they were standing there until the lady asked, "Password?"  
  
"Pumpkin juice," Harry told her. The portrait cocker her eyebrow at Brynne suspiciously and swung open, revealing a small, cozy common room decorated in scarlet and gold.  
  
Brynne sucked in a breath. She had thought the Slytherin common room was nice, but this put it to shame. The carpet was of such a thick pile she seemed to sink in as she stepped through the portrait-hole. The tapestries, curtains, and upholstery were of the deepest scarlet with edging in burnished gold. Only the best for Dumbledore's pets. Brynne stood in the middle of the room slack-jawed, turning slowly to take in the lavishness of the room fully.  
  
"You will have to come upstairs with me, in case someone comes back early," Harry's voice cut in playfully. Brynne hurried up the stairs after him and into his room. She was surprised how similar in appearance his room was with Draco's. The furniture was nearly identical, besides the obvious difference in colour of the upholstery. The desk and bed were of the same style as Draco's, but while Draco's were of dark mahogany, Harry's were fashioned of blond oak wood.  
  
Brynne watched as Harry opened his trunk and extracted his shimmering silver invisibility cloak. When she saw what was beneath it, her eyes widened. She had never seen it up close, though she knew Harry was the only person at Hogwarts to have one. She moved closer to the trunk and gazed down affectionately at the Firebolt. Although she was a Beater and had no need for a broom that fast, she couldn't help envying the broom's absolute exquisiteness. She ran her fingers lightly over the handle, electricity running from the broom up into them. How powerful and free Harry must feel, soaring through the air on such a magnificent broom.  
  
"I'll let you borrow it some time," Harry offered, noting her reverence. Brynne could only nod. "Anyways, let's get this food to Malfoy. Lunch is nearly over." He closed his trunk hastily, snapping Brynne from her thoughts. He led her from the room, and luckily met no one in the common room on their way out. They descended flight after flight of stairs until finally the reached the correct corridor. When they reached the trapdoor, Brynne and Harry pulled the invisibility cloak over themselves.  
  
"Snake venom," Brynne said quietly, and the entrance to the common room opened with a whoosh. They stepped through and made their way carefully up the stairs to Draco's room. Brynne didn't even think about the fact that Harry didn't seem at all surprised about the appearance of her common room. When they reached Draco's door, Harry placed the heavy basket of food at the door. Then Brynne knocked softly, moving away from the door, forgetting that they couldn't be seen.  
  
The door opened slightly and Draco peered out, looking like he hadn't slept in weeks. He glanced around warily. Not seeing anyone, he was about to turn and close the door when he caught sight of the basket. He glared at it suspiciously, but weakened at the smell of the food inside. Brynne heard his stomach growl softly and he snatched up the basket and closed the door.  
  
Brynne released the breath she'd been holding and stepped out from beneath the cloak. Harry lowered the cloak so only his head was revealed. Brynne gestured silently for Harry to follow her and proceeded to the end of the hall to her room. She opened the door and peeked inside. Satisfied the room was empty, she beckoned him inside and locked the door.  
  
"For a second, I didn't think he was going to take it," Harry said.  
  
"If he hadn't been so hungry, he wouldn't have," Brynne remarked softly. "He's so suspicious."  
  
As Brynne moved around the room, locating the books and supplies she would need for her afternoon classes, Harry let his eyes drift around. He noticed an oddly placed basket in the middle of the floor. "What's in here?" he asked, walking over to it.  
  
"Aidynn," she replied, looking up from her desk. "I wouldn't open it, if I were you."  
  
"Ah," he said, moving his hand away from the latch.  
  
"Which greenhouse do we have Herbology in today?" she asked, going back to what she was doing.  
  
"Two," Harry replied, sitting on her bed. "I think we're doing snapdragons."  
  
"They have magical properties?" Brynne asked incredulously.  
  
"Not usually. I think these are hybrids that have been crossed with Wolf's Bane." She looked at him skeptically. "Neville told me," he explained.  
  
"Well, let's go then," Brynne said, hoisting her book bag. "Do you have your stuff, or would you like to share mine, since you don't have time to go back to the tower for yours."  
  
"I forgot mine," Harry said, reddening.  
  
"Well, you can work with me then. Cover your head and let's go."  
  
  
  
A/N: I would just like to point out that I had a reason for that last bit about the snapdragons and Wolf's Bane. You'll have to wait a few chapters before I explain it though. 


	24. Ch 24 Calm Before the Storm

Ch. 24 Calm Before the Storm  
  
The week passed agonizingly slowly for Brynne. Without being able to be with Draco, Brynne had nearly nothing to do. However, Draco now had his evenings free, so he scheduled Quidditch practices every night after dinner. This was the longest part of Brynne's day. Being in such close proximity to Draco without saying two words to him was as excruciating a pain as she had never imagined possible.  
  
Brynne spent her days going to classes, feeding Draco when necessary, and occasionally talking with Blair, Blaise, Harry and Seamus when she had spare time. She and Harry kept their routine of studying in the library every night and sometimes Blair and Seamus joined them.  
  
Friday night, Brynne met Blaise on her way to the library. "Where are you headed?" he asked.  
  
"To the library," she replied. "I'm studying for the Potions exam with Potter and Seamus Finnegan. They need the help. You're welcome to join us. Blair may show up." she sang, as if she were dangling a book over Granger's head.  
  
"Sounds good," he replied. "You know I never pass up a chance to talk Potions."  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
The topic of conversation quickly drifted away from the exam material they were supposed to be studying to the subject of tomorrow's Quidditch match. There was quite a bit of confusion when they first started talking. Seamus wasn't aware Brynne was on the Slytherin team, and Blaise hadn't known Harry knew. Once everything was straightened out and Seamus knew not to tell anyone, there conversation continued more smoothly.  
  
"Potter, what do you think of our chances of winning, since I know you've been watching some of our practices?" asked Blaise, smirking.  
  
"I have to admit, your team's strategy is improving," Harry replied. "But I've also been teaching my team some new techniques." Seamus, the Gryffindor Keeper, nodded at this. "I think it's anyone's game."  
  
Blaise looked a bit surprised at Harry's modest answer. Then he nodded. Potter wasn't as bad as the Slytherins made him out to be. He could understand why Brynne liked him.  
  
"You know," Brynne added playfully, "that we won't be holding anything back, friend or not."  
  
"I would be sincerely disappointed if you did," Harry replied with a smile.  
  
Just then, Blair came in and sat at the table. "I thought we were going to study Potions."  
  
"We got a bit distracted. We all have a Quidditch match tomorrow. You understand," said Blaise. Blair gave him a look that made it obvious that she didn't and pulled out her Potions textbook.  
  
"Well, I'm going to study," she announced loudly. Everyone else followed her lead, shooting each other amused looks.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
It was nearly one o' clock in the morning before the group parted ways, but as Brynne lay in bed at one thirty, she found herself far from tired. Her stomach was twisting itself into knots of writhing snakes at the thought of tomorrow's match. Aiming Bludgers at her teammates in practice was one thing, but she had never played a serious game against a friend before.  
  
She didn't want to hurt Harry, but she knew in order to convince Draco there was nothing there, she couldn't hold anything back. She had been catching Draco watching her more and more as the week progressed, especially during her interactions with Harry and Seamus. She noticed the emotion returning to his stone grey eyes. She saw the jealousy, though she knew he tried to hide it.  
  
Despite her anxiety about tomorrow's game, she was really quite excited. It had been three weeks since their last match, and that one had been versus Hufflepuff. There had been no challenge. She was looking forward to using the Dopplebeater Defense on someone other than a teammate.  
  
While she was thinking about that, her mind drifted to another strategy Draco had discussed with her. Could she do it? She wasn't sure. All in good time. If tomorrow was the day, she would know then. Finally, at about three o' clock, Brynne drifted to sleep.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
Everything was black. More than that, the black seemed to be a living, breathing entity. Brynne sensed that there was something within.something dark and malicious. She squinted into the inky blackness and watched as it began to solidify into a long, sinuous form. The longer she stared, the more solid the form became, until Brynne found that she was watching a massive, black king cobra. It was moving with a violence uncharacteristic of snakes. As she looked at the snake, she saw other smaller, paler snakes of different shapes and colours moving around it. Suddenly, the king cobra began to kill and eat the smaller snakes. It was horrible. Brynne tried to close her eyes, but she could still see the snake, devouring its kin.  
  
All of a sudden, a streak of silver flew by her. It was a white wolf. Brynne watched as the animal leapt at the cobra and began wrestling with it. She heard the gnashing of teeth and the vicious hiss of the snake as they fought, fur flying and coils of snake thrashing. The cobra tried to loop its body around that of the wolf, and squeeze the life from it, but the snake couldn't get a good grip. As it attempted to rear back to strike with its poisonous fangs, the wolf latched on to its exposed neck and didn't let go. It was over quickly.  
  
The wolf turned to her, dropping the dead cobra at her feet. It licked the blood from its muzzle with an expression very much like a smile on its angular face. As Brynne stared at the animal, its form began to fade slowly into the darkness beyond, until all she could see was its eyes. The wolf's eyes carried a spark of intelligence beyond that of a normal animal. The colour was particularly unusual as well. Brynne knew that most wolves had brown or yellow eyes as adults. Some even had hazel or green, but this one's were the palest of blues. There was something very familiar about those eyes.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
When Brynne awoke at nine thirty Saturday morning, she had forgotten the dream completely. She got up and showered quickly. Since it was a game day, Brynne decided to wear something special, although no one would understand why, save a select few. She selected an eggplant dress, made almost entirely of crushed velvet. However, from the bottom of her ribcage to her hips, the dress resembled a ribbed corset and was emerald green. It, if anything, accentuated how slight the girl was, and how small and delicate she seemed. 'Looks can be deceiving,' she thought to herself with a smirk as she laced up the back of the dress. It had a plunging neckline, which revealed the pendant she always tried to hide. Brynne didn't care now. She had realized that only a few high-born wizards would actually understand its meaning anyways. She wrapped her cloak around her and went to the kitchen to get some food, since she had missed breakfast.  
  
After she ate, and succeeded in escaping the over-excited house-elves, Brynne had nothing better to do than to wait until twelve thirty, when the Slytherin team was due in their locker room for a pre-match pep talk. She decided to walk the grounds around Hogwarts.  
  
After she left the castle, Brynne walked over to the lake. She took a seat on one of the larger rocks close to shore and watched as the giant squid swam around lazily, causing whirlpools in the glassy surface of the water. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as the wind blew gently against her face. It was a beautiful day for a Quidditch match. Brynne looked up into the sky, examining the puffy white clouds dreamily.  
  
As she watched, she saw a black speck moving quickly towards her from the distance beyond the Quidditch pitch. As it came closer, she recognized it as a medium-sized bird. It swooped down and Brynne held out her arm so it could land. The peregrine falcon perched lightly and offered her its leg. Brynne pulled a letter from the pouch on its leg and the bird launched itself into the air and flew back in the direction from whence it came.  
  
Brynne flipped over the envelope and saw her name written careful script in forest green ink. The small, concise handwriting seemed vaguely familiar, but Brynne couldn't recall where she had seen it before. She tore open the envelope and let her eyes scan the page quickly.  
  
Ms. Brynne Dharielle,  
  
I believe you are a close acquaintance of my son Draco, and I would very much like to meet you. I will be attending Saturday's Quidditch match, and I would like to meet you on the pitch afterwards. I trust you will be at the match to watch Draco play. I am sure Saturday will be a day worth remembering for the both of us. ~Lucius Malfoy  
  
Brynne swore colourfully, the words sounding foreign on her tongue. She rarely ever cursed, but something of this magnitude certainly warranted such profanity. What had Draco told Lucius that he found it necessary to come to Hogwarts to confront her? Or maybe it was simply what Lucius had said: he just wanted to meet her. However, Brynne could almost guarantee it was not that simple. Not with Lucius Malfoy.and there had been something about that letter that didn't smell right.  
  
Brynne got to her feet and ran to the castle, before she even knew where she was going. She would have loved to have been able to go to Draco with this kind of problem, but she had no idea how angry he was with her, and could very well be the cause for Lucius' little day trip. She was at the Gryffindor common room's entrance before she knew it.  
  
"Pumpkin juice," she said breathlessly. The portrait scowled at her, yet swung wide so she could enter. All the people in the common room fell silent and stared at her with shocked eyes. The person she was looking for was not among them.  
  
Brynne was beginning to feel dizzy and her breathing, which was already very laboured, was growing more haggard by the second. "I need.to talk.t- to." she gasped before she sank unceremoniously to the floor.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
Brynne was being jostled and shaken around. "Earthquake," she mumbled, struggling to open her eyes. When she finally succeeded, she was staring into brilliant green eyes, tinged with worry. "What are you doing in my bed?" she slurred, almost incoherently.  
  
"I'm not in your bed. Actually, you're in mine," he said matter-of-factly.  
  
"What?!" she shouted, coming to rather quickly.  
  
"You came into the common room and passed out. Ron, who was there when it happened, came and got me, since no one else was sure what to do with you. I brought you up her so you could recover away from prying eyes. But the question remains: what are you doing here?"  
  
Brynne held out the letter, which was still clenched in her fist. Harry read it quickly, looking at her with concern. "Are you going to meet him?"  
  
"Did you read the letter? He hardly leaves me with a choice. And there's no overt threat in the letter."  
  
"It's Lucius Malfoy. There is always a threat, overt or implied," Harry replied hatefully. "If you insist on going, I'm coming with you."  
  
"But-" she started, then noticed the look of grim determination in his eyes, "you have to stay hidden if you do," she finished with a defeated tone. Brynne glanced at her watch. "It's nearly twelve," she commented. "I better go get ready for the game."  
  
"I'll see you out. My housemates may jump you on your way out and have a fun time lynching you."  
  
"What about you? You're the 'traitor'."  
  
"Don't worry about me," Harry replied. "They wouldn't hurt their star Seeker just before a match with Slytherin. It's after the game that I've got to worry."  
  
'The same goes for me,' Brynne thought. 'It's after the match that I've got to worry.' 


	25. Ch 25 A Tempest of Scarlet and Emerald

Ch. 25 A Tempest of Scarlet and Emerald  
  
The score was tied at thirty and the match had only been going for twenty minutes. Warrington had already taken a Bludger to the solar plexus and had to be removed from the game. Brynne was looking to even the score by taking out Johnson, Gryffindor's strongest Chaser.  
  
Brynne flew to Blaise's side and murmured to him, "Dopplebeater Defense: Johnson."  
  
Blaise nodded and indicated a Bludger that was currently aimed at Rosenbaum. In perfect synchrony, the two Beaters intercepted the Bludger and hit it simultaneously with all their strength towards Johnson, who was currently streaking towards the Slytherin goalposts, Quaffle in hand.  
  
The girl never saw it coming. The Bludger seemed almost to bounce off her back, and it sent her reeling headfirst over the handle of her broom and crashing to the ground with a crunch. Montague retrieved the forgotten Quaffle as Madame Hooch blew her whistle to indicate a time-out. The girl's leg was bent at an unnatural angle that assured that it was broken. After Madame Pomfrey removed Johnson from the pitch, play resumed.  
  
Both sides were even again, but Brynne wasn't happy with that. She needed to take out Harry before he caught sight of the Snitch. 'Not Harry,' she thought to herself. 'Think of him as Potter: your enemy.' Brynne formulated a plan. It was risky, but if it worked, it guaranteed a Slytherin victory. There were a million things that could go wrong, in which case, her sacrifice would be for naught.  
  
Just as Brynne was in mid-flight to Blaise to inform him of her idea, she watched in horror as Harry angled into a steep dive. Draco sped to follow him, but Brynne knew he could never get there in time. She watched in sick fascination as the two boys hurtled towards the ground, mere blurs of crimson and green. Suddenly, she saw Draco veer away, and moments later, only a foot from the ground, she saw Harry do the same. It had been a fake- out. Harry had performed a Wronski Feint, but Draco had recognized it for what it was before he was in any immediate danger. Brynne sighed with relief and flew over to Blaise.  
  
"Blaise," she whispered. "I have an idea on how to remove Potter from the match."  
  
"Oh really?" he asked interestedly.  
  
"Yes. I am going to do something that is going to completely shock everyone, including Potter, although not nearly so much. You can't let yourself be surprised with my actions, understand? The second his attention is on me, you find a Bludger and knock him, as quickly as you can. You know how good his reflexes are."  
  
"Understood."  
  
"And if it's not too much trouble, if I faint and you've got nothing better to do, could you try to catch me before I hit the ground and break all the bones in my body? That just wouldn't fit into my plans for today."  
  
"Ok." Blaise said hesitantly, giving Brynne a strange look. "Just get to it, alright?"  
  
Brynne circled the pitch, aiming Bludgers at random Gryffindors, trying to find a good place where everyone would be able to see her. She rose up to the middle of the pitch. As she floated there, waiting for Blaise to get into position, a Bludger came sailing at her, presumably in vengeance for what she had done to Johnson. She wondered which of the twins it was, so she could get him back.  
  
Brynne took a deep breath and steeled herself, and whipped back her cowl with a flourish. She glanced around, smirking slightly as the shock registered. In this time, she sent the Bludger that had been meant for her at Harry. He looked at her in shock; obviously surprised she had the gall to do this. He dodged the Bludger, but barely, and as he did, Blaise sent the other Bludger flying at Harry's head.  
  
Brynne saw it in slow-motion, as the Bludger came up behind him and glanced off his temple, yet hitting hard enough to shatter the bow of his glasses and sending him careening to the ground. She watched in abject horror as he crumpled to in a heap in the grass below.  
  
Madame Hooch blew her whistle and Pomfrey rushed onto the pitch. Brynne swooped down to hover several feet above Harry's lifeless body. She saw a thin line of blood trickling from his ear and fought valiantly the urge to vomit. She turned away and flew back to Blaise's side.  
  
She looked up into Blaise's face and saw the regret in his hazel eyes. He put his arm around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder, resisting the tears. "Shh," he whispered, as her shoulders began to heave. "Slytherins never show weakness. Don't cry. He'll be fine. I'm sure of it."  
  
Brynne nodded and moved away from him. She glanced around, noting the looks of approval from her teammates and the glares on the Gryffindor team's faces. She scowled back at them with an equal intensity. How could they believe she had wanted to do this? She was his friend for Merlin's sake! She had only been doing her job! She sighed, and as Pomfrey removed Harry from the pitch on a stretcher, prepared herself for the onslaught that would undoubtedly come after Hooch restarted the game.  
  
The whistle blew, and as she had expected, the Weasley twins lost no time in sending both Bludgers hurtling towards her. She dodged the first and sent the second flying towards Bell, another Gryffindor Chaser. Bell barely got out of the way in time, but dropped the Quaffle. It was picked up by Montague, who quickly passed it to Rosenbaum. Rosenbaum sank to dodge a Bludger and feinted right, fooling Seamus, as he scored a goal through the center hoop.  
  
"Chaser Rosenbaum has scored Slytherin another ten points, bringing their score up to forty. Too bad Gryffindor's still beating them by twenty! Dirty, rotten cheaters!" Lee Jordan, a very biased Gryffindor, and the announcer, shouted angrily into the megaphone.  
  
"Enough," Brynne heard McGonagall say sharply to Jordan. "They didn't really cheat," she admitted sullenly, almost disappointed that it wasn't true.  
  
"Slytherin scum," Jordan muttered.  
  
The score was sixty-forty in favor of Gryffindor? Brynne must have missed the part where they had scored three times. She redoubled her efforts and zoomed over to Draco to knock away a Bludger that had been aimed at his head, hitting it towards Spinnet, another Gryffindor Chaser.  
  
Brynne glanced at Draco briefly. He gave her an appreciative smile, before realizing what he was doing. He quickly set his face and gave her a curt nod. Brynne had to hide a smile of her own. She did a back flip on her broom and flew away to intercept a Bludger meant for Montague.  
  
As she flew away, so too did Draco. Brynne wondered hi she had done something wrong, but then she heard Jordan announce, "Malfoy has seen the Snitch! Harry would have had it by now if it weren't for those nasty, sons- of-"  
  
"Enough! Or I will take away your announcing privileges," McGonagall said in a warning tone.  
  
Brynne hovered on her broom, watching Draco chase the Snitch, moving with an almost unnatural fluidity. He went into a dive, speed not altering. Out of the corner of her eye, Brynne saw one of the Weasley twins hit a Bludger at Draco. She raced towards it, but she knew she wouldn't reach it in time. Suddenly Blaise was in front of her, smirking as he smashed the Bludger at the offending Weasley.  
  
"Beat you," Blaise taunted good-naturedly.  
  
"Good job." Brynne glanced around for Draco and found him near the ground. She thought she saw a glimmer of gold in the air in front of him as he flew, but she couldn't be sure it wasn't simply her imagination.  
  
Brynne watched as Draco reached out a hand and seemed to almost pluck the Snitch from the air. He raised his arm in the air triumphantly as all the Slytherins in the stands cheered loudly, nearly drowning out the groaning and outraged cries from the other three houses.  
  
St. Paul, Rosenbaum, and Montague circled around Draco, congratulating him excitedly. Blaise and Brynne hovered apart from the group, unsure what to do or whether they should join in the celebrations or if they were even welcome with Draco.  
  
Brynne watched as Draco tossed the Snitch to Madame Hooch and silently removed himself from the fray. He glided away from the group and towards the Slytherin locker rooms. No one followed, although Brynne desperately wanted to.  
  
She glanced around the stadium quickly and saw the man she had hoped not to see. Lucius Malfoy sat in one of the box seats like he was a king reigning over the Quidditch match. Brynne couldn't be sure, but she thought he was watching her. The sensation of his eyes focused on her was something she found distinctly unsettling as well as inherently creepy. It seemed to her as if he was taking her apart with his eyes, but not in the warm way Draco's had. That thought made her skin crawl. She pulled the cowl back over her face and sped into the Slytherin girl's locker room.  
  
Once inside, she sat on the bench in front of her locker replaying various events of the match in her head. She was certain Draco had smiled at her. Or had he? Had it been simply a figment of her overly hopeful imagination?  
  
Brynne also hoped that Harry would be all right. That Bludger had hit him awfully hard in the head. There had been blood even. She felt so horrible about the whole situation, though she knew that it had been her job. The guilt was uncontrollable.  
  
Brynne could almost guarantee that Lucius had approved of her strategy, however. Had even enjoyed watching Harry go down. She frowned unhappily. Now that Harry was out of commission, she would be facing Lucius alone.  
  
The stadium would be clearing out by now, and she knew in another fifteen to twenty minutes the elder Malfoy would be expecting her. She got up with a sigh and removed her Quidditch robes for a quick shower. Dismally she wondered if she would live through this encounter. 


	26. Ch 26 The Unexpected Guest and the Unexp...

Ch. 26 The Unexpected Guest and the Unexpected Offer  
  
When Brynne removed herself from the showers, she found someone waiting for her. She looked at him in shock, nearly dropping her towel in response. "What are you doing here?" she asked quietly. She received no answer, but then, she hadn't really expected one either.  
  
The golden owl considered her, head tilted to one side. He hooted softly and fluttered to her shoulder. He nuzzled her neck gently and offered her his leg. She extracted the letter and said, "Sorry I don't have anything for you here. I'll give you something later."  
  
The owl blinked in response and took flight, exiting the locker room as quietly as he had entered. She smiled at the letter she held, examining the flowing script that adorned the envelope before carefully removing the parchment within.  
  
If I were to love but once  
  
I pray that one love be you  
  
For your love is an abundance of all It fulfills me in a way none other has or ever could  
  
For you have given me happiness You have brought a bright shining light Of eternal brilliance into my life I am in awe of you and the wonder you are  
  
For you give when giving seems impossible You bring joy to my heart when life has gone astray Your love comforts me when the world crumbles down around me It gives me strength to awake to another day  
  
It is to you that I devote myself willingly Without remorse forsaking others, 'tis true For you are the love for which I have waited a lifetime  
  
Please forgive me for doubting you. I should have known you wouldn't betray me. I am so sorry. ~Love, Draco  
  
Brynne was crying when she finished the poem, her tears dripping on the parchment and smearing the ink. She read the letter again. He was so sweet. If it hadn't been for her prior engagement, she would have run straight to his room and jumped him. However, Draco's letter did much to ease Brynne's mind. She now realized that Draco's anger with her had nothing to do with his father's visit.  
  
As Brynne put on her dress, she noticed a lump in the envelope her letter had been in. She picked it up curiously and emptied the remaining contents into her palm. She stared in shock, gurgling slightly.  
  
She held a small silver ring set with a heart-shaped emerald. This, however, was not the shocking part. What astounded her was the fact that the ring was a claddagh. Not only were they Irish commitment rings, but these types of rings also held a great deal of symbolism. The band was formed of two hands holding the emerald, which was topped with a crown. The hands represented friendship, the crown, loyalty, and the heart.well, the meaning of the heart was self-evident.  
  
Brynne slipped the ring onto the fourth finger of her left hand, with the heart pointing towards her. Even how the ring was worn had significance. When the heart pointed towards the wrist, it meant that the wearer's heart belonged to another.  
  
She pulled on her cloak and stuffed the letter inside. She shoved her Quidditch robes into her locker and shut it. Then she hoisted her broom over her shoulder and slowly left the locker room, her footsteps heavy with dread.  
  
Brynne stepped out into the sunlight, squinting against the harsh brightness. A lone figure stood at the center of the Quidditch pitch. She walked over to the person despite the fact that her every instinct was telling her to flee.  
  
She stopped about two feet in front of the man and stood staring at him. He was tall, maybe six feet, and was clad all in black. His eyes were the same colour as Draco's, but somehow, completely different. These eyes held no warmth, no emotion. They were chips of ice set in a face no less severe.  
  
His features were sharp and angular. It did not seem to Brynne as if the owner of this face found it possible to smile. But then, she didn't picture him actually wanting to smile either. His long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, which made his face appear even more sharp and severe than it was, with nothing to frame his face and soften the angles.  
  
Brynne noticed he was holding a cane topped with a snake's head. She stared at it for several minutes and was tempted to ask if she could see it. Then she remembered whom it was she was dealing with and berated herself mentally.  
  
She refocused, looking him in the face, her eyes slightly narrowed. "Mr. Malfoy, I presume?" she asked politely, her voice barely above a whisper. She cringed slightly at the sound of her voice. Showing weakness so soon was not a good thing. She held out her hand, willing it not to shake.  
  
He smirked slightly. "Miss Dharielle. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He took her hand and touched his lips to it briefly. Well, obviously this was where Draco had learned his manners. She could add this one good thing to the host of bad qualities she knew Lucius to possess.  
  
Brynne decided to come straight to the point. "That was it that you wished to speak to me about, sir?"  
  
"Well, when Draco informed me of your," he paused to search for an appropriate word, "involvement, I realized that your name sounded familiar."  
  
'It should,' she thought. 'We're only one of the most influential wizarding families in Ireland.'  
  
"And not only because of your family's standing in the community, of which I am well-aware," Lucius continued smoothly, as though reading her mind. "I was not sure from where I had heard your name, so I asked some of my closer acquaintances and consulted some of the older books of lineages. I was quite surprised by my findings."  
  
"What did you find?" Brynne asked curiously, forgetting her fear.  
  
"I think you'll find it quite interesting. I assume that from the pendant you wear that you are aware that you come from a long line of Parselmouths. Am I correct?"  
  
"Yes." she replied hesitantly.  
  
"But I would wager that you don't know where the ability originated." She shook her head slowly at this. "I can tell you, if you'd like to know. I received the information from a very reliable source." Brynne nodded slightly.  
  
Lucius smirked sinisterly, which unsettled Brynne to her core. She took several steps back, but he advanced on her for every step she backed away. "You can trace your lineage back to the most famous Parselmouth in history," he began in a low voice. "Your family has traced it back only so far before they reach a dead end. I have completed the genealogy. You are a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin," Lucius stated.  
  
Malfoy's assessment hit Brynne like a train. How could she very well be related to a founder of Hogwarts? All evidence considered, it wasn't so far- fetched an idea. They didn't keep very good records back in those times. All of these revelations came about five minutes later, however, after the initial shock wore off. Her first reaction was something along the lines of, "Lurften?" She kicked herself. 'Very articulate.'  
  
Lucius chuckled slightly. "If that's how you respond to such a small trifle, perhaps you'd better not hear the rest."  
  
"No. Tell me," she said firmly.  
  
"Well, if you're sure," he said teasingly, grey eyes resembling sparkling chips of flint in their deviousness. "I'm quite surprised you haven't realized yourself, actually. As a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, you are also a distant relative of another very famous wizard." He paused briefly, letting this sink in. "You are a distant relative of Lord Voldemort," he clarified.  
  
Brynne dropped her broom and doubled over as the breath left her. She felt as if she was going to be instantly and violently sick. She looked up at Lucius weakly and quailed at the gleeful look in his eyes. He was enjoying her utter confusion and dismay. She whimpered slightly.  
  
"Join us," Lucius commanded, ignoring her sniveling.  
  
"What?" she asked incredulously. "Are you suggesting that I should join Voldemort and the Death-eaters?" she croaked ineloquently. "Never," she stated with more conviction than she had shown all afternoon.  
  
"Join us, or die," he snarled viciously, taking an aggressive step forward.  
  
"I would choose death before I would sink so low as to join such a pathetic group of cowardly wizards," she said in a decidedly Gryffindor fashion. She cringed and chose to disregard how unpleasant and out-of-character this was. "You kill Muggles and Mudbloods, and look at who you are led by! He's a damn Mudblood himself! Are you really so blind as to not see that?!" she asked with a derisive snort that was much more typical of a Slytherin.  
  
Lucius was fuming, and began to turn a completely unflattering shade of pink. His scowl deepened several levels of intensity as well. By the time Lucius regained the ability to form intelligible words, Brynne had lost the burst of courage that had allowed her to insult Lucius Malfoy so blatantly and to his face, and was rightfully terrified.  
  
"I had hoped you would see things my way, but instead of the quick, painless death I had intended if you declined my generous offer, I am afraid I will be forced to subject you to something considerably more painful," he growled. He sneered as she sank to the ground in horror. "And to think that I believed that, with your background, you were a good match for Draco." Brynne winced unconsciously at the mention of his name and stared up at Lucius with wide, frightened eyes.  
  
He pulled his wand from under his robes and pointed it at her. "Accio broomstick," he said evenly. That hadn't been what Brynne was expecting, so when she realized what he was doing and made a grab for the broom, she missed horribly. She looked back up at Lucius and quailed slightly when she noticed the look of grim satisfaction he wore. He leveled his wand at her again. "Crucio," he hissed.  
  
Immediately, Brynne was overtaken by a wave of excruciating pain that penetrated every cell of her body. A bloodcurdling scream was ripped from her body as she writhed in agony. It felt as if white-hot lances were shooting through every part of her, invading her senses. She involuntarily began to curl into a fetal position, still howling with misery, trying to block out the pain coursing through her. It was particularly intense right behind her eyes. They felt as though they were going to explode with the pressure. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks, but Brynne couldn't even feel them for the blinding pain.  
  
As suddenly as the torture had started, it ended. All that was left was a dull, throbbing ache and a feeling of utter helplessness. She sprawled out onto her back and moaned, temporarily ignorant of the man standing over her. She heard a malevolent laugh and stared up, bleary-eyed, and Lucius Malfoy, who was, in turn, looking down upon her mockingly. His lips formed a smirk. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to reconsider?" he asked coldly.  
  
"Positive," she gasped.  
  
He shrugged, looking as if he had hoped that would be her answer. "Have it your way." He aimed his wand again. Brynne shut her eyes tightly, not sure whether he was going to torture her more or just kill her. She hoped for the latter, preferring death to the agony she had just endured. She exhaled, just as Lucius began. "Avada."  
  
  
  
A/N: Isn't that evil of me? Don't worry, I have the next chapter written. I just have to feel the love before I will post it. I gotta give props for that poem though. I am not nearly talented enough to have written it. It was taken from "Love of My Life" by Sonji Rush. And all that stuff I wrote about claddaghs is true. 


	27. Ch 27 Quicksilver

Ch. 27 Quicksilver  
  
The rest of the curse never came. After a second, Brynne opened her eyes to see a silver streak fly by her and throw itself at Lucius. Malfoy tried to bring up his wand to block, but to no avail. The white wolf took the wand between its teeth and bit it in two with a decisive snap, and tackled the man to the ground.  
  
In a second, the wolf was all over him, biting and clawing. Lucius' robes were shredded and tattered in mere minutes. Lucius tried to fend off the wolf, waving his arms and shouting frantically. This seemed only to enrage the animal further. The wolf caught one of Lucius' arms in its mouth. Brynne heard a crunch as the bone shattered and Lucius screamed in pain. Blood sprang up from a thousand puncture wounds and stained the grass around the combatants.  
  
The wolf continued to maul its victim mercilessly, though Lucius was hardly fighting back. His face had several deep gashes and his hair, which was loose, was matted with his blood. His robes were sliced open, as well as the shirt beneath, revealing a wound in his shoulder so deep, muscle was visible.  
  
Brynne watched the gory scene with interest. This was familiar. She couldn't remember where, but she knew she had seen something like this before. The wolf especially. Something was tugging on her brain, like the faintest whisper of a memory.  
  
Lucius moaned incoherently, trying in vain to push the wolf away. The wolf took his arm between its teeth and shook it roughly, Lucius yelping in pain. The wolf, seemingly satisfied with its handiwork, turned to Brynne, picking up Malfoy's cane in its mouth. It dropped the cane at her feet, staring at her plaintively with grey eyes.  
  
Brynne finally got a good look at her rescuer. Despite its viciousness earlier, Brynne was not afraid of the wolf. It seemed that there was an intelligence in its eyes, not possessed of normal animals.  
  
The more she stared at it, the more Brynne realized she had seen this wolf before. But where? Scotland wasn't exactly known for having wolves. Obviously, this one didn't know that though.  
  
It was considerably smaller than most wolves and had grey eyes, signaling to Brynne that there was something strange about it. It was really a gorgeous specimen though. Its silvery white fur was long and sleek, and probably soft too, Brynne imagined.  
  
She scrutinized the wolf carefully and noticed there was something off. As it licked its lips, she realized what it was. The blood. This wolf had mangled Lucius Malfoy into an almost unrecognizable mess, and the only evidence of this the wolf carried was a bit of blood around its mouth. Entirely too clean for a savage beast, indicating that there was more to this wolf than there seemed.  
  
"You are not a normal wolf," she told it matter-of-factly. "However, you have uncommon good taste, whatever you are."  
  
The wolf seemed to smile at that comment. Her eyes grew wide as the wolf seemed to grow. Not grow, change shape, she realized. Its paws grew larger and its hip and knee joints rotated. The fur thinned, the angular face softened, and ears shifted lower. The tail receded until it disappeared, as did most of the fur. Brynne found herself staring up into a face she recognized.  
  
"Draco?" she choked.  
  
He grinned. "Surprised?"  
  
"Slightly. You haven't finished the training," she reasoned. "You shouldn't be able to do that."  
  
His smile widened. "I finished the training by myself. I've been able to transfigure completely for almost a week now."  
  
"Impressive. Did you know you've still got some blood around your mouth?"  
  
"Do I?" he asked. He licked his lips and ran his tongue around the outside of his mouth. "Better?" Brynne shivered unconsciously and nodded, a little shocked. He smirked in response. "You have to admit, I am very wolfish." He ran his tongue over his teeth lasciviously.  
  
"What do you call yourself?" Brynne asked.  
  
"Quicksilver. But that's not what you really want to know, is it?" he asked teasingly.  
  
"Did you know your father was going to be here?"  
  
"Not until I saw him in the stadium this afternoon. I knew something was up, but I had no idea he was going to do something like this," Draco told her, glaring down at his now-unconscious father. He nudged the body with the toe of his shoe disgustedly.  
  
"How did you know to come down here?" she asked, somewhat accusingly.  
  
"When you didn't come to my room and jump me after Apollo delivered the poem and the ring, I figured something must be wrong. So I asked Apollo to lead me to you. And here I find you curled up on the ground with my father standing over you like the very spectre of death." His voice cracked. "I'm so sorry," he said in a whisper, pulling her to her feet. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here to protect you." He hugged her tightly, squeezing the breath from both of them.  
  
When he lessened his grip, Brynne wriggled away and stared down at Lucius' limp body. "What should we do with him?" she asked quietly.  
  
Draco let out a shrill whistle. His eagle owl flew to him from out of nowhere and landed gracefully on his shoulder. Draco handed the owl Lucius' cane. "Take this to Dumbledore. He'll understand what it means. Lead him here." The gold bird took flight immediately, as if sensing the urgency of the matter.  
  
"Shouldn't we try to stop the bleeding or something?" Brynne asked uncertainly, after staring down at the body for a few minutes.  
  
"Do you know how to?" Draco asked, sounding quite like he didn't give a damn if she did. "I don't, and I don't know that I would try if I did. I could get blood on my hands!" he protested when she gave him a look.  
  
"Are you kidding?" she exclaimed. "You had blood in your mouth, you stupid git!"  
  
He gave Brynne a lopsided grin. "You're right. We should probably look less happy when Dumbledore gets here. It would be less suspicious that way," he said, strategically changing the subject.  
  
Brynne noticed this, and let it slide. The two stood in silence until Dumbledore, Pomfrey, and Snape arrived.  
  
"What happened here?" Dumbledore asked, glancing down at Lucius' maimed body. Madame Pomfrey went immediately to work, with Snape helping, to immobilize the dark wizard in case he should wake up and try to kill them all.  
  
"He wanted to talk to me after the Quidditch match," Brynne piped up. "He told me that I was a direct descendent of Salazar Slytherin and was therefore a distant relation to Lord Voldemort and wanted me to join with him." Pomfrey took her leave and levitated the body after her. Dumbledore and Snape began leading the pair back towards the castle.  
  
"Please continue," Dumbledore said.  
  
"When I refused, Lord Malfoy grew incredibly angry with me. I suppose I was a bit more insulting than the occasion called for. Anyways, he used the Cruciatus Curse on me. He assumed that this would be a good counter-offer, I guess. When I refused again, he was going to use the Killing Curse. Draco interrupted him and incapacitated him like so."  
  
"Miss Dharielle," Snape interjected. "How, pray tell, was the young Mr. Malfoy able to do that sort of damage to Lucius?"  
  
Brynne looked uneasily at Draco. He looked back with the same expression. "Sir, his animagus form is a wolf."  
  
Snape raised his eyebrows, but Dumbledore's facial expression remained the same, except that his eyes seemed to be a bit more twinkly than usual. "Well then, you two, off to your dormitories." They looked at him blankly, taken by surprise. "No harm, no foul. I just hope that our Mr. Malfoy will be able to show a bit more restraint in the future. As his trainer, that is your job, Miss Dharielle. A little self-control. Now off with you," he told them kindly, winking at Brynne.  
  
Brynne wondered why she had ever doubted the headmaster's competence and Draco did the same. The pair walked slowly down to the dungeons, hand in hand, each making their own plans on the best way to make up after a fight.  
  
  
  
A/N: This is NOT the last chapter. Just thought you should know. If you noticed any parallels to earlier parts of the fic, good job, you were supposed to. 


	28. Ch 28 The Mating Habits of Slytherins

Chapter 28 The Mating Habits of Slytherins  
  
Draco walked into his bedroom, Brynne by his side, and was promptly slammed against the door. He stared down at the fiery redhead in shock. She winked up at him, eyes sparkling wickedly.  
  
"I suppose this means I'm forgiven for not believing you then?" he asked teasingly.  
  
"Oh no, don't think you're going to escape punishment that easily," she said in mock indignation, tracing her finger down Draco's chest suggestively.  
  
"What are you going to do?" he asked grinning, and stepping towards her somewhat eagerly.  
  
Brynne took a step back and looked at him coyly. "Absolutely nothing." His face fell. ".Until I get you to take a shower," she continued smugly.  
  
She advanced on him slowly, like a cat hunting her prey, and pressed him back against the door. Draco reached for her, but she evaded his grasp. "No you don't," she said playfully. "I'm in control." She reached up and ruffled his hair, letting her finger graze the outer curve of his ear. She saw him shiver. This was going to be fun. Brynne looked him up and down and was delighted to notice he had put his Hogwarts uniform back on after the match. The more clothes the better. This was going to make her game all the more interesting.  
  
She took him by the front of his shirt and pulled him over to the bed. She expertly removed his tie and strung it around her neck, smirking. Then Brynne began to unbutton Draco's vest at an excruciatingly slow pace, never breaking eye contact. When she finally got to all the buttons, she slowly pulled the vest off and began to work on his shirt. Eventually, Draco grew impatient with her pace and moved to help, but she flicked his hands away.  
  
When Brynne finally got the pale boy's shirt open, she took a step back and smiled at her handiwork, as well as Draco's finely chiseled chest. Smooth, milky skin stretched taut over firm muscle. Oh yes, Brynne had been correct when she had ascertained that he had a swimmer's body.  
  
She ran her hands over his pecs lightly, grazing her fingernails slightly over toned muscle. She felt another shiver run through him and she smirked slightly as she tugged the shirt from his shoulders.  
  
Brynne unbuttoned the cuffs at each of his wrists before pulling the shirt off completely. She liked him this way, with clear access to his obliques. She ran one finger along the undeniably sexy curve of muscle.  
  
She looked up into Draco's face and was pleased to find an expression of almost pained ecstasy on his face, his eyes half-closed and full of desire. She grinned evilly in response. She had no intention of letting up yet. Ravishing was fun, but perhaps the slow, torturous approach also had its own little charm.  
  
Brynne placed her palm flat on Draco's sternum and pushed him down into a sitting position on his bed. Then she bent, and at an achingly slow pace began to remove his shoes and socks.  
  
"You're driving me crazy. Did you know that?" Draco asked in an uncharacteristically husky voice.  
  
"I believe that was the point, dear," she said playfully, her eyes glittering wickedly. She pushed him down on the bed and pulled his arms over his head and pinned them there, running her fingernails lightly along the inside of his biceps.  
  
Draco shivered before beginning to squirm uncontrollably. "Stop that!" he howled between peals of laughter. "That's not fair!"  
  
Brynne gave him an odd look. "You expected me to be fair? Are you insane?" But she did stop, and instead began to nibble his ear.  
  
Draco growled in mock frustration and tried to capture her mouth with his. She evaded his advances and released his wrists so she could ruffle his hair. This was where Brynne made her mistake. The instant his hands were free, Draco grasped Brynne's waist and flipped them both bodily, so that she was pinned beneath him.  
  
He leaned down to kiss her, but she wriggled out of reach, screaming with laughter as he tickled her sides. "Cheater!" she gasped breathlessly.  
  
Draco grinned down evilly. "All's fair in love and war."  
  
Brynne reached up and cuffed him lightly in the shoulder. She shifted restlessly beneath the blonde boy until she had inched out from under him. She stood up beside the bed and pulled Draco up in front of her.  
  
She made a move to kiss him, but at the last moment, swerved her lips away and spoke quietly into his ear instead. "You smell of sweat and blood. I insist you take a shower before I'll kiss you. And brush your teeth as well," she added with a smirk. "You had blood in your mouth, and I'm not a really big fan of the flavour."  
  
She slowly walked around him, trailing her fingers lightly around his waist, her movements resembling a belt turn. As she came back around, Draco took her right hand in his left, and performed an overhand twirl. She then spun out wide, both her and Draco's arms taut, before she spun back in, Draco's arm curling around her body in an almost protective manner, Brynne's back pressed flush against his solid chest.  
  
They stood like that for several minutes breathing heavily, neither wanting to be the first to move. Eventually, Draco used his free hand to move Brynne's braid off her back and dipped his head to slowly kiss the tender flesh at the base of her neck. She sighed and leaned her head back on his shoulder as he began to nibble her earlobe.  
  
Then, with no warning, Brynne released his hand and pushed off him, slowly turning to regard him, an eyebrow hoisted. "I suggest you take that shower now," she said finally. "Before the stench becomes nauseating." Her upper lip twitched as she tried to hide a smile. Her eyes shone gleefully.  
  
Draco raised one graceful eyebrow in response. "I'll have you know that it is impossible for a Malfoy to have a nauseating stench."  
  
"Whatever you say, o' ye of little hygiene and much perspiration," she said, no longer able to keep the giggling at bay.  
  
Draco opened his mouth to shoot of a smart reply, but was cut short when he found himself being shoved unceremoniously into the bathroom. As her turned to shout at Brynne, he barely ducked in time to avoid the forest green towel that came flying at his head. "And don't forget your teeth!" he heard her shout as she closed the bathroom door in his face. "Little hygiene, eh?" he muttered to himself as he discarded what was left of his clothes. "I'll show her."  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
Meanwhile, Brynne had collapsed on Draco's bed, holding her sides until her laughter had subsided. My, but that had been fun! The look on Draco's face had been priceless when she had thrown the towel at him. But the dancing.that had been something else entirely.  
  
When Draco had spun her, the action had triggered a memory. She played it over in her mind, the way it had felt when they were dancing.and she remembered. She had had a dream a few weeks ago in which there had been dancing. She even remembered telling Draco about it. They had both transfigured in the dream, but only now did she realize what she had seen in Draco's place: Quicksilver.  
  
Then Brynne remembered that that hadn't been the only time she had seen Quicksilver before. She remembered another dream she had had, in which Quicksilver had killed a huge black King cobra and then laid it at her feet, much like the real Quicksilver had done with Lucius' cane.  
  
Brynne smiled to herself. She had these kinds of dreams all the time; she really ought to start realizing what they mean and listening to them.  
  
She heard the water in the bathroom turn off. Draco would be out shortly. She removed the hair tie from her braid and slowly ran her fingers through her hair, sending coppery waves down her back. She heard the knob turn and spun around expectantly to face the bathroom door.  
  
The door opened and Draco stepped out into the room. Brynne's eyes grew as large as dinner-plates and she found herself completely speechless except for one word. "Towel," she squeaked.  
  
And indeed, it appeared that that was all Draco was wearing. It didn't even seem as if he had used the towel before wrapping around his waist. He was dripping from head to toe with water, his chest glistening with moisture, his hair hanging limp and floppy around his face.  
  
Draco grinned. Brynne was staring at him with what could only be described as awe and unfettered desire, the exact reaction he had intended. "I'm guessing from the look on your face that you are no longer concerned with my 'nauseating stench'," he teased.  
  
Brynne's head felt like her brain was lost in a thick fog. She shook her head, both in answer to his question and in an attempt to clear her mind.  
  
After she succeeded, to a point, she realized this had been a play for power. And it had come very close to working. She smiled coyly, looking him up and down like he was the most delicious dessert she had ever seen. All things considered, he was.  
  
She closed the gap between them in several quick steps and immediately claimed his mouth with hers, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers tangled in his dripping wet locks.  
  
At first, Draco seemed to be a bit shocked by Brynne's forwardness, but then quickly relaxed into the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue. The two tongues battled for control of the kiss; Brynne finally conceding as she decided what she was going to do next. She smirked slightly around his kiss at her evil idea.  
  
Draco pulled away slightly and kissed his way down Brynne's neck to her collarbone. Brynne bit her lip slightly, eyes half-closed. She slowly began to disentangle her hands from his hair, slowly letting them travel down his neck, shoulders, and arms to rest lightly on his hips.  
  
Brynne stood up on her tiptoes and ran her tongue from Draco's throat to his ear, biting down rather decisively on the lobe. As she did this, she stepped back away from Draco, and in a swift, fluid motion, took his towel with her.  
  
She whipped the towel around her head as she stared at him shamelessly, her eyes glittering wickedly. Draco made no move to cover himself, and as he closed the gap between them, Brynne tossed the towel into the far corner of the room, where it landed with a wet smack. Neither of them even heard it hit.  
  
~Fin~  
  
A/N: Gotta give props to my friend ER, who helped me work out the dance sequence. There are moves from ballroom dancing as well as East Coast Swing (the Belt Turn). And thanks to J and Jamie for all the inspiration! And I realize that it is a bit late in the game to be mentioning this, but I borrowed the name Brynn Dharielle from R. A. Salvatore. I just changed the spelling a bit because I like it better with an "e". 


	29. Epilogue

Back by popular demand, I have decided to write an epilogue, though I didn't begin this fic with a prologue. I only wrote this because you people were gagging for it. (Or at least some of you were.) I may write a sequel eventually, but as of right now, I'm working on another fic that is monopolizing my time.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
Epilogue  
  
~Five Years Later~  
  
"Draco, hurry up," Brynne called to the closed door. "We've got to get downstairs. You're his best man and it wouldn't do to be late for the wedding when all we've got to do is walk down a few flights of stairs."  
  
Draco exited the bathroom and stepped into the large bedroom they shared. "What do you think?" he asked. He was dressed in an all-black tuxedo with a black dress shirt underneath and his silver-blonde hair was slicked back, as per usual.  
  
Brynne looked him up and down approvingly. "I think I'm glad I taught you the value of Muggle clothing. You look wonderful." Then she snickered. "But old habits die hard, don't they?" she asked, eyeing him gleefully. "It matched though." Draco rolled his eyes and fingered his tie. It was one of his old silver and green Slytherin neckties.  
  
Brynne turned back to the mirror at her vanity table to put the finishing touches on her lipstick. "It was very generous of you to offer to host the wedding here," she told Draco, not looking at him. "Especially considering who it is he's marrying. And that reminds me. I promise not to fight if you do. You leave Weasley along, and I'll do the same with Granger. He'll kill us if we ruin his wedding. Help me up, dear," she said when she was satisfied with her makeup.  
  
Draco moved to her side and gently pulled her to her feet. He slipped his arms around her waist and caressed her swollen middle. Brynne sighed contentedly and leaned back into his embrace. "We can't stay like this all day," she murmured after a moment.  
  
"Why not?" Draco asked kissing her temple.  
  
"Because he'll never forgive you if you're not there for his wedding. Especially considering how little effort it requires for you to go. And he's not the kind of person one wants angry with them. You know how short his temper is." She slowly pulled out of his grasp and walked to the bathroom.  
  
Draco watched, thinking, 'Brynne is the only woman that can make waddling look sexy.'  
  
"I'll be right out," she told him. "Then we'll head downstairs."  
  
She hadn't been in the bathroom for more than a minute before Draco heard her moan, "Oh no." He went to the door and rapped on it. "What's wrong?" His eyes widened when she emerged. The bottom of her dress was soaked and Brynne was swaying slightly on her feet.  
  
"I'm not ready yet," she whispered softly, before collapsing into Draco's arms. As he gazed past her, he saw a large puddle of water spreading across the floor. Comprehension dawned on his face, but was quickly replaced by worry. Effortlessly, he lifted her and carried her to the bed. Once he got her considerably situated, Draco did what any man in his situation would do: he ran to his mother.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
When Draco returned to his bedroom with Narcissa in tow, Brynne was awake, but disoriented. "We have to get downstairs. What am I doing back in bed?" When she attempted to get up, Draco gently pushed her back against the pillows. "What are you doing?" she asked angrily. Then she noticed Narcissa's presence. "Ciss, what are you doing here?"  
  
The older woman moved to her side and knelt by the edge of the bed. "This may come as a bit of a shock," she began gently, "but Draco and I think you're going to have the baby. Right now."  
  
Brynne's eyes widened. "I-I can't go into labour now! There's a wedding about to start downstairs!"  
  
"I know," Narcissa replied apologetically. "But that baby wants out now." Brynne sighed resignedly. Then she winced in pain. "Contraction?" Narcissa asked.  
  
"I thi-think so," came a shaky reply.  
  
Narcissa turned to Draco. "I want you to go downstairs and tell them what's happened. They can decide whether or not to go on with the wedding or to postpone. Send Severus up here, and anyone else who has any medical experience."  
  
Draco didn't move. "I want to stay here. With my wife," he said resolutely.  
  
Narcissa nodded, a small smile on her lips. "I'll do it." As she left the room, she thought about her own husband. She scowled. 'Why couldn't the father be more like the son?' Lucius was currently rotting in Azkaban, and though Narcissa knew he deserved it, she wished it wouldn't have been necessary in the first place. She sighed and descended into the large lobby of Malfoy Manor, where a host of people stood about talking softly.  
  
She immediately glided over to Severus Snape and touched his arm lightly. The foreboding-looking man started at the touch and looked around sharply. When his dark eyes lit on her, and he recognized who had touched him, Snape's eyes softened ever so slightly. "Yes, Narcissa?" he asked.  
  
"I'm afraid we've a bit of a 'situation' upstairs. It seems someone's keen on existing a week early," she said with a smile. "You are needed upstairs, as well as anyone you can think of with medical experience."  
  
The man's cool exterior crumbled as his eyes widened perceptibly. "Bloody hell, you're not joking, are you?" he exclaimed, eliciting several shocked glances. Her serious blue eyes were his only response. "Fine," he responded, gazing around the room quickly. "I believe Padma Patil's had Medi-witch training. Either her or Neville Longbottom. Although how that boy managed it, I'll never know."  
  
"Judging from your disdain for this Longbottom, which one is Padma?"  
  
"She's one of the twins. I can't tell which one, now that they don't have their Hogwarts robes to tell them apart." A thought occurred to him as Narcissa began to walk away, in the direction of the closest Patil twin, who was standing with a blonde boy who was brandishing a camera. "Narcissa?" he called.  
  
She turned. "Yes?"  
  
"What about the Godparents? Should they be informed?"  
  
"Yes. But do it quickly and get upstairs. I anticipate that copious amounts of Analges Potion will be needed," the witch commented with a faint reminiscent smile before walking away.  
  
Snape turned on his heel and strode briskly to where Blair and Blaise Zabini were talking to Oliver Wood and Cho Chang, who were holding hands. He idly wondered how either Wood or Chang got their minds off Quidditch long enough to get involved in a relationship. "Excuse me, but Mrs. Zabini, I believe you're wanted upstairs," he said to Blair. Then Snape turned to Blaise. "I'm sure you would be welcome as well." As he turned to leave, Blair caught his sleeve. He turned to her questioningly.  
  
"What is this about?" she asked.  
  
"There are things afoot," he told her, his voice full of meaning. She stared at him blankly. He rolled his eyes impatiently. You just couldn't be subtle or mysterious anymore. Someone was always demanding an explanation. "Just go," he commanded. "I've got to go collect your other half."  
  
With that comment, realization dawned on Blair. She smiled excitedly at Snape before running quickly to the stairs, dragging a confused Blaise behind her.  
  
Snape looked around the room. Where was he? The man smirked when he found him. 'In his element, of course,' Snape's inner voice answered. 'In a veritable sea of Weasleys.'  
  
He glided up to the throng to stand behind his target. "Mr. Potter," he hissed in Harry's ear. The Potions Master smirked when Harry started at the sound of his voice. Snape took pleasure in the fact that his voice was still capable of having that effect on a young man who hadn't been his student for two and a half years. "Your presence is required upstairs," he continued.  
  
"But the wedding is about to begin," the younger man protested.  
  
"Yes, but you will have three unhappy Malfoys on your hands if you aren't present." Snape moved closer and lowered his voice so that only Harry could hear. "And I'm not talking about Narcissa."  
  
It took Harry a minute to understand Snape's meaning, but when he did, he green eyes widened. "Oh. Well then. I'm gonna go upstairs then," he said slowly, before rushing to and up the stairs.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
When Narcissa returned to Brynne and Draco's bedroom, she found it full of people. She raised her voice to be heard over the din. "I must insist that anyone who is not a Potions Master, a Medi-witch, one of the parents, or me will have to wait outside. Now!" Harry, Blaise and Blair quickly moved to comply, not wishing to invoke the wrath of a Malfoy.  
  
"Severus," she said, moving to the tall man's side, "Draco has his private Potions lab across the hall." She turned to Draco. "What's the password to your lab?"  
  
Draco looked up from wiping Brynne's forehead. "Mordechai," he answered.  
  
"All the ingredients for the painkilling potion should be found on his shelves, if my memory serves. If you need anything else, I'll get it for you," Narcissa murmured to Snape.  
  
He nodded curtly and left the room, gesturing for Blaise to follow him into the Potions lab as he left. The Analges Potion was rather complicated and was more easily and quickly prepared with two people cooperating.  
  
"Hurry with that potion!" Brynne shouted irritably at his retreating back, as she squeezed her eyes shut with pain. She seized Draco's hand and blindly groped around for something to take hold of with her other hand. "Ciss," she moaned, and Narcissa quickly moved to take her other hand. When the contraction had passed, Brynne looked up imploringly at the older woman. "What of the wedding?" she asked through ragged breaths.  
  
"Well, I talked to Miss Weasley, since she appears to be in charge. Though she seemed rather hesitant to postpone, she understood that a wedding is more easily rescheduled than labour. I believe she's spreading word around as we speak," Narcissa responded.  
  
Brynne nodded and then proceeded to cut off circulation in the two hands she was gripping for dear life.  
  
"Snape!" Draco yelled. "Would you mind hurrying up with that Analges Potion? Mum and I are about to lose our hands!"  
  
Shortly after Draco spoke, Snape burst into the room carrying a vial of clear violet liquid. Blaise stood at the door, his face a mirror of shock. He abruptly turned away and closed the door with a snap.  
  
"Finally!" Brynne growled with an intensity short of feral and yanked the potion from the stunned Potions Master. She drained the vial quickly and lay back against the pillows, considerably alleviated of pain.  
  
Padma looked up from her position at the end of the bed. "The birthing is about to begin. Draco, do you want to watch?"  
  
To Draco's credit, he lasted nearly two minutes, before he promptly passed out.  
  
~~~***~~~  
  
Draco's head was swimming in a fog. He found himself staring up at Snape. "Amazing, your powers of perseverance," he commented dryly, with a slight smirk touching his lips. He held out a hand to help the younger man to his feet.  
  
"Draco?" Brynne asked weakly from the bed. "I've got someone I'd like you to meet."  
  
Draco moved slowly over to the bed, where Brynne was lying comfortably, holding a small white bundle. "What is it?" he asked softly, his voice full of awe.  
  
"It's a baby, you git!" Snape responded sarcastically, but with a hint of amusement.  
  
"I know that," Draco replied, reddening slightly. "I was referring to the baby's gender."  
  
"We have a son," Brynne replied happily. "Lucas Michael Malfoy."  
  
"How come you got to name him?" Draco asked with false indignation. He loved the name, but he was feeling just a little put out that he hadn't been conscious for the boy's naming.  
  
"Well, you decided on his gender, so I thought it was only fair!" she retorted pleasantly.  
  
"I did not!" Draco protested. "Did I?"  
  
Padma cut in here. "Well, according to modern Muggle medicine, it is the sperm that determines a baby's gender, so technically you did," she commented in a soft voice.  
  
"Oh." Draco climbed onto the bed beside Brynne. "Can I hold him?" he asked.  
  
"Of course," she replied and handed him the white bundle cradled in her arms.  
  
Draco took the baby gently and, once he got him situated, pulled back the blanket to look at his son. He gasped at what he saw.  
  
Lucas was absolutely amazing. The boy had smooth, milky skin, nearly a mirror image of that of his father, except for a faint dusting of butterscotch freckles across the bridge of his perfect nose. The boy's sleeping form carried an almost cherubic quality. At the sound of his father's voice, Lucas' eyes slid open the tiniest bit to reveal twin pools of swirling silver and emerald. But the most remarkable of the boy's features was his hair. His head was covered in the finest, softest blonde hair, but all throughout were streaks of black. Draco ran a tentative hand across the boy's head, raising his eyes questioningly to Brynne.  
  
"Don't ask me!" she protested, "but I think that scorchings from magical fires may be hereditary," she continued with a small smirk. "Besides, I like it."  
  
"Don't forget," Narcissa interrupted, "you've got people waiting."  
  
"So let them in!" Brynne replied, somewhat cheerfully for someone who had just underwent labour. Snape, who was closest, pulled open the door. "Harry, Blair, you have a Godson!" she called.  
  
After Harry, Blaise, and Blair oohed and ahhed over Lucas for a few minutes, a thought occurred to Harry. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "Ginny's still downstairs. I'm sure she and Marcus would love to meet the reason their wedding was postponed."  
  
~Fin~ (This time for real ^_^) 


End file.
